Muggle Magic
by Yosoyeli
Summary: A EWE story or redemption and forgiveness. Trying to give Hermione the kind of attention and treatment she deserves. She will be courted properly. She finally realizes her relationship with Ron is full of resentments and low key aggression. Meanwhile, Draco has the opportunity to repent and apologize.
1. Back to Hogwarts

We all know these characters were created by the amazing creativity of J.K. Rowling. They are hers. Anyway, thank you Jo! For allowing us to work the emotions and thoughts your work inspired while we explore our own creativity. Cheers!

If you read this story, would you be so kind as to leave a comment telling me what you liked or what you didn't like about it? I would love to know what you thought.

**1 Back to Hogwarts **

The war had been won, finally, after so much destruction and so many losses.

People everywhere were mourning. After the turmoil, now there was a possibility to look at the past, without the urgency of the battle being fought. Now they could miss even the little everyday things they did with their loved ones who had died, and realized how meaningful they had actually been, and that they were to happen no more. Never again they were going to sit together at the dinner table, and share...everything that had been shared in the past... even the little disagreements.

At the same time, there was joy and celebration. No more deaths to be feared due to that horrible hunger for power, to that stupid belief, ever present in the history of humanity, that whole groups of people are born already better than others, not just different, and that we should just stick to our own kind and rule the world.

It was a time for profound reflection, and perhaps the right setting for some epiphanies to come to life. After all, change is difficult. Sometimes it can only come to pass through painful catastrophes, when the ground under our feet changes swiftly and devastatingly enough that our beliefs, those signposts we guided ourselves with, those -truths- we defended with words and actions, shake and rock under our feet as much as anything else, and can only be questioned.

Of course, even in times of complete questioning and utter uncertainty there is some normalcy that must be clung to, and a steady little voice that whispers "rebuild, rebuild." Life had to continue.

The castle was the place that had sustained the most had been many meetings at the ministry to try to solve the problem. Everyone in the school administration and board of governors thought it was not going to be possible to reopen for at the very least one year, as resources were limited and the damage extensive. But the ministry thought it very important to have the school return to normal activities as soon as possible, as that was sure to elevate everyone's spirits.

Plus, the next generations of wizards had to be prepared. They could not sit at home just doing whatever and annoying their parents in the process. That was probably why the ministry was so successful in asking the community for support in rebuilding the school. Everybody rallied around the cause. Everyone, rich and poor, wanted to help. Some gave money, some gave time, most gave both in generous amounts.

So, it happened that very soon they knew that, in about a month, the ancient school was going to be ready to receive the students. Educational plans had to continue being discussed, negotiated, and signed into formal documents. One of the agreements that was given priority was the scheduling for the next year. All the students that left or didn't return around Easter break, would have to complete their last school year during the rest of the summer break; which was going to be extended until the end of September. Then starting October the new school year was due to commence. It was going to be a very tight schedule. Some of the students, who had failed their classes or left before Easter break, were going to have to start their last school year all over.

Letters were sent promptly, thanks to an overworked school staff. Professor McGonagall, now headmistress, made sure everyone was invited to return, and all the prefect positions were assigned. They just needed to confirm who was coming back.

Professor McGonagall was the perfect person to take the responsibility. The school was certainly going to have a knowledgeable and experienced guide in this challenging time.

Of course Hermione had received her letter inviting her to be head girl, an honorary head girl. An honor they thought it was imperative to bestow upon her. Everyone agreed -how often does a witch like her shows up at Hogwarts?- not very often.

There he was, Harry had decided to arrive early, to have a look at the progress they were making rebuilding the castle. It was amazing! All the good work, and how fast they were doing it. It was probably similar to the time when he had buried Dobby. When the way to confront his pain was to do something with his hands. To pay tribute to his love for Dobby by doing something meaningful. To occupy his mind with something else than the burning "why" in all its different disguised forms.

He strolled through the corridors slowly, taking everything in. Suddenly a voice call from his left.

"Harry, dear." He didn't need to see her to know who she was.

"Mrs Weasley, it's so good to see you."

She had been volunteering all her time to the effort.

She walked towards him and he approached her too.

"I can say the same son, come here, give me a hug," and she opened her arms jovially to embrace her other son, the one she hadn't given birth to; but whom she had quickly grown to love as one of her own, since she had the opportunity to get to know him.

She released him for the embrace, but she kept a hold of one of his arms "Oh! Ginny and Ron told me everything went well with Hermione's parents."

The golden trio plus Ginny had just arrived from their search in Australia. They had left immediately after the funerals, which had been done as quickly as possible when the war ended. Hermione had stayed mainly to the insistence of Ron. He knew how anxious Hermione was to see her parents again, after the most scary year in her short life, but he still wanted her by his side in those terrible circumstances and she had gone along with his wishes.

"They said the most difficult part was to locate them, right?" Harry nodded at her question, "good thing Hermione knows her magic," and with this she finally let go of his arm, which she had been clutching with fountains of affection.

"Yes," Harry reflected with a feeling of tenderness in his chest. "And she was so happy when they recognized her. It was a little bit strange though. Her parents were so confused and full of questions, trying to understand the extent of what had happened -one year of them being totally oblivious of everything- and she couldn't stop crying while trying to explain... She is so brave, Hermione."

"By the gods she is!" Said Mrs Weasley wiping little tears from the corner of her eyes.

"She should be here soon too," Harry said quickly when he noticed Mrs Weasley tearing up, trying to distract from the moment. He had always felt uncomfortable when people cried. "Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to us."

"I know Harry, Ron told me. They should be on their way, I expect, they were going to have lunch at Madam Puddifoot's. Well... it's so wonderful to have you back," said Mrs Weasley and gave him another hug, this time a quick one. "Go ahead dear; I don't want to make you late. There will be plenty of time to talk later."

He walked the rest of the way reflecting on how much everyone had lost, including him. And yet, he was a million times more content now than before he knew there was this other world, where he really belonged. Now he had his friends, and they , to him, were family as well as friends. With them, he could certainly recognize, difficulties were easier to face.

He arrived at the office, and there was a man from the ministry outside the closed door.

"Mr Potter," the man said. "So good to see you. Professor McGonagall should be about to finish her meeting with the education deputy. She asked me to tell you to please wait here."

"Oh... absolutely." With that Harry turned around to see if his friends were coming yet.

They weren't, but he didn't need to wait long. Soon enough Harry heard them climbing the spiral stairs chatting and laughing. That part of the school still showed a lot of damage and no work had been done there. Prof McGonagall thought it should be the last part to be restored.

"Hi Harry," said Hermione, beaming at him.

"What's up mate? We're not late, are we?" Ron said, his eyes were full of life. You could see his happiness through them. He finally was with the girl . He didn't mind that it was actually she, the one who, in the end, gave the first step into their relationship, and that he barely put any effort.

But there was no time for Harry to respond. The door opened and then they could see the education deputy and his secretary being escorted out by Professor McGonagall.

"Ok professor, I'll expect the documents next Wednesday. And please if you have any other concerns feel free to shoot me an owl," said the short balding wizard coming out of the office. Harry thought he had seen him somewhere in the ministry, but couldn't remember exactly where, and he had no idea what his name was.

"Oh, but isn't it young Harry and his loyal friends?" He had turned and spotted them. "I hope you all are going to be back to complete your education."

"Yes, we are thinking about the possibilities," was Harry's response.

"Very well, very well," said the man motioning his two subordinates to follow him. "It was nice to see you."

Professor McGonagall looked tired, she had dark baggy spots under her eyes. But that didn't prevent her from showing she was glad to see them. "Potter , Granger, Weasley, please come in." Her voice sounded contented. She offered the chairs in front of her desk with a motion of her hand, walked to the other side of the desk and sat down on the chair that used to be Dumbledore's.

"Welcome back to you," she said assessing her students, their injuries, scratches, cuts and bruises seemed to be almost completely healed. "I heard you went on your mission to Australia. Are your parents alright?" She asked Hermione, and she told her they were. They mentioned how it had taken them a few days to locate them. Of all the ways they looked. Fortunately, Hermione had planted the idea in their heads about this beautiful beach in Australia. They did end up establishing there. It was so comforting to talk to Professor McGonagall. She might not be quite as brilliant as Dumbledore in the magic department, but she now had other skills too. Now that she wasn't going to be the one of the people in charge of applying disciplinary actions on the students she could concentrate her efforts in making students feel at ease and cared for with some sort of motherly love, relax a little.

"Well, before I tell you why I requested your presence for, I might want to ask you what you have decided about school."

"I am definitely in, professor," Hermione answered with a smile on her face. "And I've been trying to convince Ron, he is a little reluctant to be in the same grade as his sister." Adding to that the fact that Ginny was going to be a prefect herself.

Professor McGonagall turned to look at Ron, pressed her lips to a line and sighed, why would anyone refuse the opportunity?

"Mr Weasley, I think you should finish your education and this very convenient arrangement is not going to be there again. Please don't waste this opportunity for petty inconveniences. Many doors will open after you graduate. Think about it and send back the agreement form as soon as you decide. That'll make my life so much easier. And what about you Mr Potter? She asked, turning to see the young wizard with the black messy hair.

"I think you can count me in too, professor," said Harry, "but... uh... May I ask a stupid question? "She nodded so Harry proceeded, "how come you invited Hermione to be head girl and nobody else in our circumstance was considered even for a prefectorial position?"

"Oh my dear, you are telling me we were unfair?"

"Oh no professor, I was just curious,"

Harry wasn't indeed asking out of a personal hurt. He wasn't really even thinking about him. He hadn't even been a prefect and he really didn't mind but he suspected Ron was feeling a little rejected by them. That, he knew, had him again in a sour mood trying to reject the possibility of coming back to school.

"Well Potter, the ministry, the school board of governors, and many teachers, including myself, thought we ought to make a special exemption for Hermione. We thought she was brave beyond measure. I mean, you, Miss Granger, could have just walked out of this mess. All your family are muggles. You could just have walked out and concentrated your efforts in keeping your parents and yourself safe, but you decided to stay and fight a war without the support of your beloved family. Not only that but do it in the most dangerous position while being muggle born, the type of people they were trying to get rid of. That kind of bravery shouldn't be ignored. I think the ministry has its eyes on you. Also, we really need some extra help in these extraordinary circumstances." At this she returned her eyes to Harry, "do you agree Mr Potter?"

"Oh, indeed professor, I totally agree."

It was just hitting him, Hermione really had left her world, her beloved parents, to be on the very front of a war. That war was mainly the responsibility of the magical community, to which she had just been part of for a few years. She was the person with the least necessity to get involved, she belonged to another world yet she hadn't hesitated to put her life on the line of fire.

That was her alright, she was indeed an exceptional human being. And her brain was not her greatest asset, her caring heart was, so much so that even though her intellect had gained her the label of "brightest witch of her age" she was not put in Ravenclaw; she was a Gryffindor. She wasn't particularly intrepid, but the fact that, fear and all, she could go ahead and do what the most daring would do, just in the name of the right cause... that was courage like you rarely saw.

From the corner of his eye he caught Ron reaching to squeeze her hand affectionately. He hoped the same realization was dawning on him. And he hoped this could help him decide to come back without resentments.

"But I appreciate you bringing the subject, Potter. And so, maybe I should ask you Miss Granger, would you be willing to take the responsibility we are offering? You know all the prefects, including the head boy and girl, will be under your supervision. I know it'll be a big effort but I know you are totally capable."

"It'll be a great honor professor," said Hermione , flushing a little bit, "I already filled the agreements. I'll be sending them your way tonight."

"Very well, very well. I expect you read about the older 7th years, you will be sharing a different dormitory than regular 7 years due to the fact that you are off age.

All of them nodded, even Ron, whom out of frustration hadn't even been willing to read the documents. He had really felt left behind, disregarded by the school staff. He thought he deserved the same treatment as Hermione, wasn't he by Harry's side too all the time?... well... almost all the time? Hadn't he been a prefect too?

"Now, I think it is time to approach the matter at hand," said professor McGonagall, retrieving some papers from a corner on her desk. "You might recall a couple of weeks ago I was contacted by the lawyers handling the Malfoy's cases." She said and turned to the black haired wizard. "Harry, Mrs Malfoy really appreciates your willingness to help her, participating as a witness."

Professor McGonagall had owl Harry to ask him if he would be willing to testify in Mrs. Malfoy trial. She claimed she had lied to Voldemort to protect Harry. She assured them she had said he was dead when she knew he was not.

"No problem." Harry answered briefly.

His friends knew about that interaction and they were wondering with a curious and uneasy heart if something else of that nature was about to be requested.

"I have met with them, the Malfoy's and their lawyers," continued professor McGonagall. "They are now trying to give priority to Draco's case. They are all in Azkaban but in the process of bailing Draco. Anyway, they are trying to collect any information that might help his case. So they requested our help, they think that maybe somebody at Hogwarts might have witnessed something. Mrs. Malfoy claims Draco was always hesitant to be part of everything. That he was very young, underage really, when he was pushed, bullied by everybody into being branded. She said he was afraid, and was chosen by Voldemort just to punish his father . She said he didn't want to be involved in identifying you, when they captured you and brought you to their manor. Do you know if any of this might be true? I know this is a very complicated endeavor and it might not be that easy for you but I also need to know if you would be willing to testify to it.

Hermione immediately answered "he did professor, I remember him seemed reluctant to identify us. And I guess it's just our moral responsibility to let the truth be known". She was probably feeling sorry for him, Azkaban was not a stroll in the park, she imagined.

"The stupid ferret," Ron mumbled under his breath, very uncomfortable of the perspective of having to help their enemy again.

"You know professor," added Harry, "I actually could add some extra information."

"What is this information Potter?" Ask professor McGonagall with an expectant look, she sat very straight in her chair and very absorbedly put her right hand up to her chin.

"Well, you know, the day professor Dumbledore was killed, I was there, under the invisibility cloak. He had petrified me, probably to protect me. And I saw Draco struggling. He was supposed to be the one killing professor Dumbledore; he said it himself, but at times he was just lowering his wand. The other Death Eaters arrived and they were sort of bullying him. He was shaking and really seemed troubled, even scared. Moaning Myrtle also told me things that might confirm Mrs. Malfoy's claims. And another day I saw him in the bathroom looking very ...how to say it...depressed?


	2. Draco's plight

**2\. Draco's plight **

There was the trial. The golden trio helped. Well... this time it was more like a duo. Draco was sentenced to 2 months in Azkaban

His mother sent flower arrangements and thank you notes to all of them, even to non-participating Ron.

...

Draco had been thinking so much his head was spinning. He didn't want to go back to school. He hated the idea, but that was what his mother asked him to do, after he was released from Azkaban. She wanted him around, he, her only son; he, the one person she would give her own life to save, was her only happiness when he came to visit her in Azkaban.

She loved him so much it was almost painful, and he knew it. Her love for him was one of the few reasons, maybe the only one, that could make her change her attitudes and opinions, even about long held beliefs.

He also knew she and his father had wanted more heirs to their name and fortune, and they had tried, but time and time again there had been miscarriages and stillbirths. She had cried in pain and frustration for weeks each time. Then, the final blow, when everything inside her was ripped apart; when one of her beloved babies to be, had the misfortune to start growing in the wrong place.

After that, there was no more hope. There was an unbelievable sorrow, a pain so big it took her long months to start functioning again. Then she clung to her only beautiful baby...and she spoiled him rotten.

Not that having more children would have made her a better mother but at least would have diffused the smothering.

On the other hand many of his childhood friends were not around anymore, some left the town for good, to look for new beginnings. He was lonely, and his enormous ego made him afraid. Afraid of trying to start a new life around people who knew who he had been, and what had he done.

He thought it would be easier to move to France, to the property they still owned in that country. He really wanted to go, to escape. He had some family in that place, on his fathers' side. That would definitely be easier for him. To just run away. To escape everything that reminded him of his wrong doings. But no, he could not do that. He needed to be close by, in case anything happened. Especially to his fragile, emotionally battered mother. She had been sentenced to two years in jail.

Soon, moving away will be much more difficult; they were losing their wealth left and right. And that property in France was almost ready to be put in the market. They needed to pay many different debts, and bills due to legal proceedings and also a lot of money was used to fulfill the punishment of their crimes.

And many other things were happening too. His father had been sentenced; no hope for him to ever be free again. He had killed, he had tortured, he had kidnapped, even minors, he had provided ample support to the wrong side.

His father, he now could see, was a weak man who was enamored with his wealth and the power it provided. That power had allowed him to feel secure, so he fought to keep the status quo. His prejudices were something that gave him strength, to justify all the wrongs he had done.

As a weak man with strong emotions, his father didn't know how to control them, how to be his own master. He had seen his father afraid to confront Voldemort, tiptoed around him, and he had seen him be cruel to the vulnerable.

His father loved his wife and his only son to the moon and back. But he could lose his temper with them too, especially with Draco. He had no patience for his weaknesses. He went berserk when Draco showed untamed fragility. He needed him strong, he needed to be proud of him. He liked Draco the most when he acted with the smug superiority that ease his insecurities; then he showed his approval.

His dad wanted him to be that, probably to live vicariously through him. Or probably because he hated to see vulnerability in his only son, it reminded him of his own, it made him feel frustrated. So, from a very young age, he tried to teach him they were superior. That they didn't belong with some people, "lesser" people. And all muggles were lesser because he didn't understand them, their primitive ways; he had never taken the time to really see them, he didn't care.

He loved giving Draco things. Very expensive ones, that very few could afford. With the intent to show him how superior they were... and Draco had drunk the kool aid.

Draco had been weak too. And he couldn't lie to himself; he had liked making all those mistakes... until the going got tough.

He had really thought he was special and deserved everything. That was what he had been taught and he liked it. And insane proclivity of humans, to like what's easy and gives us pleasure, then let some of those pleasures become twisted by ruling and ruining our lives.

Indeed, the going had gotten extremely tough. Draco had been a cuddle child. He hadn't had the opportunity to develop the strength of character little by little, through small every day opportunities. So when the tough going arrived, he wasn't ready; his mind and soul had shattered into a million pieces. Fighting for survival. Overwhelmed by the immense responsibility of saving his and his parents lives through a task that sometimes seemed impossible. Drenched in a daily internal flood of adrenaline that had kept him going. Like a shipwreck, desperate to finally catch a glance of dry land.

He had believed muggles were really inferior. They deserved, he'd thought, to be kept in their place, so that their kind could flourish. His parents had told him they had mod in their blood. They were filthy, there was no good on them. Yet, now, he had been questioning that. His side, the side that hated muggles, had been willing to sacrifice him. They bickered , fought, envied. Evil was their favorite currency. There was no peace around them. Just suffering.

On the contrary, the other side had been the one willing to help him, even saving his life. Professor Dumbledore had tried to rescue him. How could that even be possible? When he had tried to kill him. Harry and his friends had saved him and his friend from a terrifying possibility of being burned alive. And then, they had testified in a way that had helped him and his mother. Most of the pure blood community respected those muggles... so... maybe... they might be right. It was so scary... but that would mean he and his family had been wrong all along.

Was there any redemption for him? For his parents? He didn't know. But still, he loved them and sort of resent them at the same time. Was that right? To love a person the likes of his father, who had made mistakes, so severe, that had landed him in jail for life. But that had been one of the two who actually loved him. With a broken, ignorant, mistaken love; that, maybe wasn't love at all but an intent at love. Yet, nobody else in the world might care about him at the moment but his parents.

Here it was, that desperation, once more. Then the anxiety. He needed it so badly. It was a way to replace the one obsession of the mind with a different one. He needed to go again to their wine cellar. His mother had asked him to stay away from it. The house elf had found him there one of those nights, sleeping on the floor, after he had drank again his way into oblivion. And then he had tattletaled on him to his mother.

These long, long days, all alone with his thoughts. He had felt, many times, as if he was being swallowed to hell by a whirlpool of his mind. And he had felt the urge to run away from his head, to break it to pieces, so it would stop thinking, remembering, torturing him.

He didn't know his mother had begged professor McGonagall, when she went to visit her in Azkaban, to take him back. Even when he had missed his chance. He hadn't returned to school after Easter. But Azkaban had prevented him from going back to school and finishing his studies in the time frame they had set for cases like his.

The professor offered the possibility of a -do over- of his that last year. There were going to be complications, after all, the boy, now, had a criminal record. He would have to be housed independently from other students. Mrs. Malfoy was sure that was not a possibility. Draco would never agree to that. She was sure he wasn't ready to deal with kids his age right now, especially in those singling circumstances, and after everything that had happened.

She offered money, in fact almost all she had left, and pleaded with tears and desperation in her eyes. She recounted to professor McGonagall what the faithful house elf had witnessed, the image of a defeated young man in the grip of the frightening possibility of addiction. Her dear boy lying asleep on the floor surrounded by many empty bottles, from many, many days of out of control drinking. She said she wanted him to be occupied. That maybe some adults could keep an eye on him. They talked about the options.

At some point they talked about the possibility of taking him in some sort of special -one to one- tutoring, in which each professor will meet with him, maybe once or twice a week. That would keep him very busy. In this structure, he will be the one doing the investigation and learning, almost on his own, but supervised, disciplined and cared for by wise and experienced people. Professor McGonagall thought it was something they could do.

Of course professor McGonagall didn't accept any irrational offering of money. She was just going to ask for the fair, appropriate tuition under the circumstances. She was compelled to help, extending a hand to save this young life. Anyway, tuition, room and board under these special circumstances wasn't going to be cheap.

Mrs. Malfoy had been so worried about her son totally losing his way. And wanted someone to help her right the wrongs she had made in raising him. She didn't mind that a substantial amount of money would be spent to this effect. Maybe there was going to be hope. Maybe the universe would be willing to help.

...

This was Draco Malfoy's first day back at school. He was scheduled to meet professor McGonagall as his very first activity.

The house elf was the one delivering him to school today, as to help him with all his belongings.

They had inherited whatever was left of his aunt's properties. After the ministry officials removed the forbidden trinkets and the necessary assets to pay for compensation and restitution, very little was left, among that her house elf. His mother was delighted to receive him. He could keep an eye on her son.

Draco was going to apparate just outside the protected zone of the school. Then walk a reasonable distance to the entrance and meet the elf. The elf could more easily manage all the bulk of the luggage arriving directly inside the school.

All the students were in their classes already, it was the middle of the morning. He felt awkward, were the students going to see him as an old man? A broken man? He was older alright, but really not by much, just a couple of months older than the older regular 7th years. Nevertheless, nobody in the whole school had lived anything near his Azkaban experience and his branding tattoo on the forearm. The shameful reminder and proof of his mistakes.

Everybody must know about what had happened to his family. They had been the wealthiest family in Wizarding England and now they were nothing. Their faces, the stories of everything that had happened to them were in the newspapers and on the tabloids.

It was a beautiful sunny day, warmer than an average October day, but he couldn't appreciate it. You could even say he was feeling cold. He was still trapped in his plights. It was a horrible place to be. He didn't know how to escape from it. Perhaps there was a way out or perhaps he just had to hold on and let time help him forget.

He was there at the top foot or the stairs leading to prof McGonagall office. The house elf was waiting for him a few meters inside the great doors, guarding his belongings.

With an expectant anxious feeling he knocked twice on the door.

"Come in," professor McGonagall answered from her desk.

"Good morning professor."

"Good morning Mr Malfoy, please come in and have a seat." Professor McGonagall removed her reading glasses, put them on the desk and softly rubbed her tired eyes.

"Thank you."

She waited until he had sat down and was looking at her to begin speaking. "I will have to be a little brief Mr Malfoy. I have more people scheduled after you, but there are important points I had to make sure are clear to you," continue the wise headmistress.

"Your dormitory was satisfactory finish just yesterday, it has its own bathroom. I am terribly sorry but you won't be allowed to use the regular bathrooms for students." He had a criminal history already. They had to ease the other parents with these kinds of rules. "But you will be permitted to use staff bathrooms. Since you won't have the need to be roaming the school all day every day, I doubt this will be any inconvenience at all. The passwords and location of these facilities are in your welcome folder, on top of the desk in your room," she said scrutinizing his face for understanding.

At the nod of his head she continued, "you will be meeting with your professors once a week for one hour. This will always be in the evenings, when they already finish their regular activities. You won't be permitted to miss any of the planned hours of personal tutoring. If you have to be absent you must reschedule at least two days in advance, in the case of -no emergency- situations. Of course these absences should be authorized by your sponsor."

"You need to choose a sponsor among the school staff. In case of emergencies, you would be responsible for contacting your sponsor as soon as possible; no nonsense would be allowed. And again, you would be responsible to reschedule any lost tutoring, at the convenience of your professors. You'll find your schedule in your folder too. Any questions so far?"

He shook his head.

"You will be responsible for doing most of the learning. Your meetings are going to be used mainly to evaluate your learning, clarify points you might be struggling with, assign work, suggest resources, etc. The themes that you still have to study and your N.E.W.T.s exams have been scheduled and you can find that information in your folder."

Professor McGonagall briefly looked at her notes and then continued, "I know you would have to be absent most weekends. To visit your parents or your home. To check over your family's property and responsibilities. Your sponsor can authorize your departures and arrivals to school. In case of an emergency, if you can't contact him or her, you might contact me or as a last resort Mr Filch. He will be the one responsible to unlock the gate for you and has been informed of this emergency possibility."

"I need you to choose your sponsor and let me know about it in the next two weeks. Just drop a note in the drop box near the gargoyle, the sooner the better."

"Also, we both know you can call your house elf, and he can apparate anytime in and out of school. But a reminder that you shouldn't try to travel this way with his help; the powerful protections on the school will make it very dangerous for your physical integrity. Any questions?"

"So, this sponsor, does it have to be a current professor of mine?"

"No, it doesn't. I mainly would like you to feel comfortable with this teacher and trust him or her. This sponsor might be asked to support you in other ways we might have overlooked," she said.

"I'll keep my mind on that."

"Mr Malfoy, I will urge you to put all your heart and mind into this last stretch of your education. Your parents are paying a substantial amount of money for you to be able to come back to school. And this accommodation is going to put even more strain on some of my staff. They already have too much on their plates. So I am going to hold you to a higher standard than any regular student. To be able to get your credits you will need to get either an O or an E, otherwise you will fail the class. I know you are totally capable." And she knew too that in this way he will be forced to be deeply involved in his education and as a result less consumed by his own troubles.

"Since you don't have any scheduled activities any day until the evening, you might have your meals at your convenience in the great hall. And if I may make a suggestion, I'll recommend you try to reach out to other students at that time. You need to develop new friendships. It might be easier for you to isolate yourself. I think, if you try, it could be really rewarding to make new friends."

"Finally, even if your situation is a very particular one, you could still be reprimanded and supervised by prefects and heads. Their information is, again, in your folder. Questions?"

"I think everything is clear, professor."

"Very well Mr Malfoy, please wait for Mr Filch outside, in the corridor. He is going to come to take you to your room and help you set the password." She stood up and offered him a handshake. "Welcome back."


	3. The former enemy

**3\. The former enemy**

Hermione knocked on the door. She had to do it, even though part of her didn't feel like seeing her former nemesis ever again. Former? Maybe still nemesis as of today. Maybe he hadn't changed one bit. But perhaps another part of her was a little curious. After all they had helped him, perhaps that could have opened an avenue for understanding.

Anyway, this was just part of her responsibilities, and she knew how to comply with responsibilities. It had nothing to do with curiosity, she reprimanded herself.

Hermione breathed deeply and knocked again. And again one part of her was hoping he wasn't in his room. Maybe this awkward moment could keep sliding forward until the end of his time at school. After all he was just going to be there for a couple of months, but the other part of her was anxious to get it over with. She was hoping some good change might have been brought up by the suffering of the war, but sort of doubted it. She also felt a little sorry for him regarding his situation. Azkaban mind you. And maybe all this mumble jumble in her mind was a reflection of her nervousness. Then with a heavy feeling on her chest she saw the door knob move, and he appeared on the threshold.

"Malfoy," she said a little uncomfortably, moving her weight from one leg to the other and breathing slowly trying to gain the composure to deal with her responsibilities.

"Granger?!"

He was surprised, his eyebrows borrowed questioning with confusion but quickly elaborated in his mind that it would be best to keep up appearances and act nonchalantly, maybe even try to be a little charming.

This girl had all the reasons in the world to hate him, but she had actually helped him. She and her friends. He didn't know why, though. He didn't actually know her that well, had never even had a conversation with her.

"I knew you lived in the neighborhood, but... I really didn't think you would pay me any visits."

He knew she was at the top of the hierarchical pyramid now, she was the student with the most power in the school at the moment… the girl that he once despised so much.

"Well... yes...me neither... but... here is the thing," she started, stumbling a little on her words by the awkwardness of the moment. "I needed to come here to talk to you. You see, Professor McGonagall asked me to do it. She gave me this title of honorary head girl, and I will be responsible for the supervision of the overage students, that includes you."

She couldn't deny she now was feeling a sort of pride. To be able to command obedience from her former enemy… if the case needed be, she would have authority over him.

"So if you need any assistance I might be able to provide, please let me know...I am your next door neighbor." She said as she pointed at the door some 20 feet away from his own.

She took advantage of the moment he moved a little forward to look at her room door with its small porch, to study the young man. He looked a little different. A little taller, more a man now than a boy. But he looked ill, thin like he did more than one year ago when he let the evil crowd come inside the school, and his expression was somber... no, he was probably the same hater he had always been, she concluded in her head.

"There might be just a flimsy wall between you and me, Granger; so you ought to feel very lucky that your next door neighbor doesn't snore." He said when his eyes were back on her and he softened his face with a little almost-friendly grin. He was trying to offer a small covert olive branch. "I really hope mine doesn't either." Damn! It was just weird trying to talk to her.

"I think I will give you no reason to complain about that Malfoy." She returned the small smile ,she had been raised to be polite, so that, to her, was the only way to respond to what looked like a smile. Then continued, turning her expression into a concerned one., "look... I really hope, this time, we can start acting like the grown ups we are now and avoid trouble."

She had been asked to go visit him and offer assistance, but she felt she also needed to make it clear that she was not going to tolerate any nonsense.

"Don't worry your little busy head, Granger." He said changing his facial expression to a more serious one and looking away to one side for a moment . "I am not here to socialize, and you won't be seeing me very often... if at all." This was tiring, overwhelming for him, exactly what he had feared for, being reminded of the ghost of his own past actions.

And she noticed it, no grin, no smirk, no hate, just a blank tired expression that she had never seen in him when he had interacted with her, not a prideful attitude at all.

And that, what he said, was true; it had already been a week of school and this was the first time she'd seen him. She had been asked by professor McGonagall to come, to talk to him and offer assistance. She had asked her to keep a careful eye on him. She mentioned, very confidentially , that he might have been strongly toying with alcohol before coming back to school.

"Okay...Do you have any questions?" She asked, looking firmly at his grey eyes ready to finish this uncomfortable forced interaction.

He shook his head.

"Very well then, I'll see you around Malfoy ... or not." She shrugged her shoulders, offered him a little polite smile and turned to walk back to her room. _What's wrong, did I just have a sort of not aggressive interaction with Malfoy and it actually felt sort of easy? Well, yes, I suppose this past hell in the end might have changed us all_, she thought.

He had returned her smile, with the same soft grin he had used before .

I probably should have said thank you, for all she and her friends did to help me. Yes, I probably should have. But there was the risk, through that, of inviting some kind of lecturing, of recrimination, of scolding. Again, he didn't really know her that much, and sometimes it is easier to protect ourselves; so, no thanking today, thank you very much.

She was already opening the door to her room as he said, "nice talking to you too Granger." That was the most he could do at the moment.

...

Hermione's relationship with The Wesleys, now closer, had certainly helped her change her point of view about humor. Before, Hermione always thought humor was a waste of time. Who cared about humor? There were many interesting and amazing things happening in the world not to try to learn them all. And to learn, you didn't need humor. You needed quiet, you needed curiosity, you needed that furiously stubborn concentration that will help you understand.

Learning something new and difficult could be really challenging. So you had to be patient. Pacing yourself not to rush. Giving your mind enough time to grasp every detail. It was like disentangling a ball of yarn; but during the process and after it, she sometimes could feel that ecstasy. That amazement of witnessing the perfection of the universe. Everything was exactly in its proper place, form and quantity. It was a humbling process. A process through which she felt infinitely small yet one with the divine.

It had happened a few times in her life, that in the crescendo of understanding, she had stopped reading, almost trembling, tears falling quietly down her face. All of her transformed in gratefulness for the greatness of everything. How all the sciences intertwined to create the most amazing symphony of knowledge, trying to explain the beauty of everything.

Very few people understood. Most people perceived her approach to knowledge as an annoying attitude of a know-it-all, who was just motivated by ego, just moved by an attempt to humiliate the rest of them; even when many had benefited from her hard to get knowledge.

Why was it that jocks and sport players could boast about their skills, their achievements, and everyone admire them? On the contrary, kids who exercise their mind's skills never receive that kind of respect; they received more like resentment.

She used to think that humor, that silly way of relating, was stupid; when there were so many jaw dropping themes that could be discussed passionately at any time. From literature to science, from history to art and of course magic. She could touch heavens with that, but almost no one wanted to travel that road with her.

But with the Wesleys, she was learning that humor was also a skill, it made people feel at ease. She had spent some days with them during this last summer too. They were mourning the death of one of them and the permanent physical damage of two of the others , and yet they continue lovingly teasing each other. They could still laugh, and she had laughed with them. She paid attention, and noticed her spirit lifting a little bit each time they laugh. She decided it was a good idea to try to learn the skill.

Her first attempts were frustrating; she didn't make people laugh or relax. Nobody got her brilliant attempts at humor; in response, she always got perplexed or offended faces. Then she struggled to understand why. What was she doing wrong? She had to pay attention and try to learn. Being brilliant at something doesn't make you brilliant or even good at everything. You have to learn. Ironically, some people, like her, struggle with what most people might consider basic easy knowledge.

...

Professor McGonagall had been trying to keep an eye on her most complicated student in the whole school. How often can you say one of your students had been part of a criminal organization? An organization of grown ups, where the only minor, him, was put into the role of fulfilling very dangerous tasks. Her honorary head girl had told her she hadn't seen him. So, she asked her to visit him, but yet again, there have been no changes. He tried to eat his meals either very early or very late, avoiding interacting with the other students, so she made sure to call him to have a word.

"Mr Malfoy, I see you got my message," said professor McGonagall when Draco entered her office prompted by her. The office very few people had visited more than once; he had. It was the perks of being the son of a very powerful man, being around important people and going to special places among many others.

"Yes. You needed a word with me, professor?" Asked the student standing a couple of steps inside the office.

"Yes, just a quick one. I wanted to check how you are doing. Are you comfortable with the arrangements?"

"I am okay, professor. I think we are just starting, so I really have no complaints or comments," said the student, not really trying to analyze his school accommodations. Those were the things that worried him the least.

"Very well. I imagine you might not feel completely comfortable with me talking about your emotional well-being. This is a trying time you are going through," professor McGonagall said, while she observed how her student narrowed his eyes and stiffed his body, probably in preparation for fight or flight.

She wasn't planning on asking questions or to intrude harshly in his predicaments. She just wanted to offer some hard earned wisdom, so she continued, "I wanted to offer you a humble suggestion, from a person with many years of experience in life...you know, in the midst of difficulties, is my experience, that looking to sincerely get interested in someone else's well being is a very wise way to escape one's worries. Especially if that person is going through difficult times too and, if possible, get involved and help. I don't know, maybe you could volunteer some of your free time to help the quidditch teams or do some other good work that might involve others. Think about it, will you?"

"I will professor," replied the boy slowly nodding his head, his eyes still narrowed but now feeling very perplexed.

"Sounds good to me. You can go back to your activities now."

...

Draco arrived in his room after his class the present day.

His classes had been great, difficult but great. He had been able to keep up with the pace.

They expected a lot of him, but, at the same time, his professors treated him differently, perhaps more as their equal. Some of the professors usually offer him tea to accompany their classes.

He had spent long solitary hours in the library, reading and preparing his material. He usually went there in the morning, when the rest of the school was busy with their morning classes.

He had felt lonely at times, but was also afraid of rejection, even his closest friends had abandoned him. His family had been shamed, not only after the war, but also before, when they fell from Voldemort's graces.

He was expected to know the subjects, almost at the level of the professors, and they just listened, evaluated and made little corrections to his learning. This level of hard work had certainly kept him from digging into the dark places of his mind.

The days had, for sure, been easier, but during the nights, he still had nightmares that made him sweat and wake up drenched and agitated. It was also really difficult to fall asleep in the first place. So, he tended to stay awake until very late at night, hoping that the exertion would help him fall asleep.

He could sometimes hear Hermione's door close, when she got back from her curfew enforcement patrol at night. Contrary to what he initially thought, the walls were not that flimsy. From whatever place his daily activities had him, he could only hear the very loud noises coming from her room , and there were very few of them.

It had been two days since prof McGonagall had talked to him. And, in his bed, during his hopeful wait for sleep, he had been pondering her words. No doubt, when he didn't have any distractions, he was still being tormented by his mind.

What had she said? To be interested in someone else?

In one of the countless paths his ranting mind took, he remembered. He had a cousin; she had married the werewolf. The man who had been his teacher, and who had been at school at the same time as his father, at least for a couple of years. He didn't know how, but he had found out they both had been killed in the final battle and they had left behind their, now orphaned, baby son... his own relative. That thought sent chills down his spine. That baby, for sure, had lost more than him, and so, his curiosity started. Maybe he could be interested in them, in the baby. But how to even start?

Nymphadora had been his cousin, and he knew nothing about her. He had just heard she was an auror and had been working with the team protecting the school. Goyle once showed him a glance of her from far away, "quickly, look, that's Nymphadora, your cousin," he had said pointing at her from afar.

There was his mother's cousin too, whom he didn't know anything about either. One of the Black's. Regulus' brother.

And her mother's sister. His aunt. Nymphadora's mom. He believed she might be alive, but wasn't sure. He didn't even remember her name. She had been shamed and erased from their minds long before he was born.

And the baby, where was he?

On that though he drifted asleep. It was almost 3am.

...

By the next night he had concocted a plan. Maybe it wasn't the wisest idea, but he wanted to find out more about the members of his family, those he never knew, and... he was afraid to ask for help. To show he knew nothing about some of the dead in his family. To look weak, and expose himself to be a rumor, for doing things people didn't expect him to do. He, for sure, was still full of pride.

Back at home, after he was released from Azkaban, he had rummaged through his parents manor, to help himself pass the time. What else was he supposed to do, so much time and no purpose left in life. One day he found a small bottle in his father's office, felix-felicis, he grabbed it with excited hands. This was certainly something he could put to use. Even though it was almost empty, he had made sure to bring it to school extremely well protected.

This was the time to use it, he thought . The effect should last some half an hour; he had concluded, after carefully evaluating the amount left. How else could he use half an hour of good luck efficiently? Not in many ways. So, he was going to use it to go to the school archives, and find information about the members of his family barely known to him.

Maybe he could start working from there and one day he could even meet his cousin's son.

With the luck it provided, he was sure he was going to be able to dash to the appropriate office, locate the files, extract them and undetected bring them back with him to his room. Tonight he was exhausted, but tomorrow he will proceed.


	4. Magic in the air

**4\. Magic in the air**

It was time. He was going to try to drink even the last trace of the damn potion, there wasn't much left.

He was ready, he had waited until past the time Hermione, he knew, returned to her room at night. He hadn't caught the sound of her door that night, but that was okay. Anyway, he needed to do it soon after the curfew so he could have an excuse in case something failed; he could then lie and say he needed to go to the hospital and the honorary head girl wasn't back when he left so it wasn't possible to inform her.

With excited hands he uncorked the bottle and drank. He knew what to expect; he had read accounts of the power of the potion. He felt exhilaration in his heart, so he darted out of his room and dashed down the corridor.

It was a windy night.

He had gotten to the office in a few minutes. He could feel the magic working on him, the feeling of excitement, of knowing, without even thinking, exactly what he needed to do. He felt a little drunk with emotion.

With an easy spell he opened the door, got in and... tripped on the single step while entering the room . Down he went, landing hard on his hands and knees. This accompanied with a loud crashing sound, coming from the wand he had let go of when falling, as it flew forcefully onto the cabinets and then onto the floor still bouncing a couple of times.

_Hell_, he thought, this was probably a Felix-felicis knock off. Some bastard had scammed his father. That son of a gun should be happy his father, now, couldn't do a thing to revenge this affront.

He heard some close by footsteps running his way. This was going to be trouble, but he noticed he wasn't feeling scared; he still felt as if he was being guided by some -all powerful- entity.

He barely had time to stand and run to retrieve his wand, when she appeared at the door.

"Malfoy," Hermione roared with furious eyes, wand in hand pointing at him.

But no time to reply, there were now meows, coming from, probably, half down the corridor and... Filch, calling his beloved cat from the farthest end, his quick footsteps approaching. They both had turned their heads to the sounds.

When Hermione returned her gaze to Draco she saw him move swiftly, closing the door behind her and then moving quickly to the window to unlatch it, open it slightly, grab a nearby broom and lay it on the floor. To then run to the closet, hold open the door and look at her.

"Please," he asked, with a semi pleading, almost questioning voice and worried eyes, that he had calculated should do the trick.

She had let him do all that without a single interruption. She thought he looked panicked, and she was suddenly intrigued. It was not like him to look that worried and ask something from her, and even less with a polite word.

It was probably the threat of Filch. She knew Draco had to follow very strict rules and, if broken, there was no chance for him to remain at school. She calculated the consequences in her head, Filch was not going to try to understand. So she conceded.

She quickly walked to the closet and got in, he got in after her, closed the door and locked it with a spell.

Soon they heard the door open. Filch entered, and as if by magic the wind suddenly picked up; okay maybe by the magic inside Draco's system. The unlatched window slammed; and Filch concluded that the wind, the window and the broom on the floor, must have been the things he and his cat had heard.

It was a big closet but, unfortunately for Hermione, that afternoon someone had the brilliant idea, just before leaving, to place a big box on the top shelf. It was protruding all the way to the spot where her head should go. So, to avoid it, she had to crouch her upper body towards Draco, she hoped Filch would finish quickly, this was not the most comfortable standing position. Bent like that her head was the closest to him. Her forehead was just a few inches from his chest.

She could smell his, for sure, very expensive cologne, it was exquisite. She would have never imagined in her wildest dreams having her head so close to Malfoy. He was handsome all right and he always moved with an elegance that reflected his posh lifestyle and... he smelled sooo good! but this circumstance was so uncomfortable, and she didn't appreciate it making her think those thoughts.

Yes, physical closeness could create turmoil just on its own; especially with such a wonderful masculine fragrance taking control of her senses.

She was getting really tired. So she put her hand on his chest, just barely, just the side of her hand. Nothing that might be misinterpreted.

As an extra precaution Filch looked around the room and checked for anything out of place. He also made sure that the closet was properly locked. After he was satisfied with what he saw, he went to pick up the broom from the floor and securely latch the window.

Draco felt Hermione's hand on his chest, he didn't mind, she was probably struggling to maintain her uncomfortable stand.

Her hand felt light, warm and soft in his chest.

Even though he could no longer perceive the smell of his own cologne, he could detect a delicate fragrance coming from her. Nothing strong, just a clean, fruity-flowery scent... soft... and warm... like her touch... Suddenly there were butterflies in his stomach... he wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

What the f... His brain screamed, this is Granger. He made a mental note to get himself a girlfriend. It had been a long time of abstinence and it was already messing with his head.

Filch locked the office door from the outside in the corridor. Had he been the one forgetting to latch the window? He wondered. Then he and his cat left to go to their quarters.

Hermione quickly unlocked the closet door and practically pushed Draco out of her way and jumped out followed closely by him.

"Thank you," he said, looking sincere.

She turned around to face him with a confused expression on her was still trying to digest her last an almost imperceptible shake of her head she recovered.

"Oh no, no... no just yet Malfoy, you're still not out of the woods. You have some explaining to do before I decide what's next." She walked calmly to a nearby chair, sat down and looked at him expectantly.

Draco looked around, with the help of the moonlight filtering through the window, found another chair and then brought it forward to the right spot, less than 2 meters away from Hermione.

Felix-felicis was guiding and helping him, so he was able to ignore his pride and show, with some sincerity, how deep his pain was.

He sat down, bent a little forward to put his elbows on his knees, loosely interlaced his fingers, looked at them and started, "well...it's been really difficult lately...I've lost everyone close to me... I know some of them were maybe horrible people, just like I have been. But they were the people I knew, the people I grew up around... I think professor McGonagall might suspect I am, by far, not in the best place emotionally. Then, the other day she suggested I be interested in someone else."

He sat up and rubbed his forehead just above his right eyebrow.

"So, I've been thinking of those in my family I didn't know ... I lost them before I even knew them. Not that I even cared for that in the past, but I am in a different place now, a painful one. And I wonder what it would be like to still have a family."

He was definitely sounding down. Hermione was looking at him with careful, scrutinizing eyes, analyzing him, soon she decided he was being honest.

"So I remembered, I had a cousin, her name was Nymphadora and she had just had a baby." He had to stop for a second at that and swallow a lump of pain, his gaze moved down to the floor for a moment then somewhere to the wall behind her.

"There was her mom too, my aunt, whose name I don't even remember, and my mother had a cousin, his name was Sirius. They, Sirius and Nymphadora were killed, and I never even talked to them... so I thought I might be able to find a little information about them. Call me crazy, call me unworthy to do it, but I just felt I needed to come to the archive and look for information. Maybe it wasn't going to be much or valuable, but it's the most I can get at the moment."

He quickly glanced at her with somber eyes and looked away immediately.

"I can't ask mother; she has enough affliction right now, and I can't just go and disturb her mind with inquiries. There might be painful memories that could be stirred if I asked."

He moved his head up and down, slowly as a way to say that was it, and turned to look at Hermione.

"That's the reason I came here."

She had followed his words very closely, pondering the magnitude of the confession felt in every word. She tried to imagine how it might feel what he was going through, being alone, his parents in jail.

She requested, with concern and curiosity, shifting a little in her chair her wand still in her hand making her feel safe, "why didn't you ask for help or permission? You could have gotten yourself into serious trouble, and I doubt anybody could have denied you the opportunity to check your family members' records."

"You are probably right," he answered while lifting his right hand to scratch his cheek with his fingers for a couple of seconds, almost like he was asking himself if it was a good idea to answer that question.

"Here's the thing, I am in this shaky state of mind. I don't think I could stand people judging me, so I don't really feel like letting people know. At the moment, I just can't handle it... I mean… I don't even remember my own aunt's name."

He thought he wouldn't be able to handle snarky comments, or any kind of mockery without trying to shred someone to pieces, the amount of dark magic he had learned was dangerous.

He wasn't able to look firmly at her, he just briefly took quick glances to gauge her reactions.

He was sad and felt kind of strange to be telling her all that, but weirdly there was also some kind of intuition and satisfaction about being able to speak the truth and knowing it was absolutely the right thing to do.

"Okay," said Hermione after a silent moment, then getting up.

"Please put the chair back in its place, and grab whatever you brought with you, we are leaving."

She was satisfied with his explanation. He sounded honest, and she could see there was some sadness in him. She thought that nobody should be punished for something like that; it had some worthwhile intentions behind it. She and her friends have done that sort of sneaky thing many many times.

"Okay, ready," he said, after quickly having done what he was asked.

"Very well, I can walk you to your room, or maybe you can walk me to mine or we could just do both," she said with a little grin, trying, with this silly comment, to let him know he had avoided trouble. She was still trying to improve her 'use humor to improve relationships' skills.

"Doing both sounds good," he said, thinking that Granger had never stroked him as a witty person, maybe something had changed her. Anyway, he knew how to keep up with witty comments.

They left the archives office and walked silently for a few minutes. The wind had almost stopped, yet the autumn cold nights were there, Hermione fixed her scarf around her neck to try to cover it all.

"When I left my room I calculated you were already in yours," said Draco in a calm voice, breaking the silence. "I wasn't planning on getting caught."

He turned to take a brief glimpse of her.

"And how exactly do you know what time I arrive in my room?"

There was confusion on her face. This was the second time she had seen him in the more than two weeks of school, even though they slept in adjacent rooms, how in the name of Merlin did he know?

"Sometimes I can hear your door when you come back from your patrol. Never too far from 10:00."

He looked again in her direction and this time he took longer as to be able to assess his companion, those curls of her would make her easily recognizable among crowds. She had the Gryffindor scarf, a school robe on top of a long coat, some jeans and trainers.

"Mmh." She frowned, she had completely forgotten about Malfoy after having complied with her order to visit him. "I have never heard noises coming from your room, are you sure you don't sleep all day?" She allowed one side of her mouth to bend upwards.

"No," he said, laughing a little. "But sometimes I wish I could." He vaguely shook his head, thinking.

If she just knew about how difficult it was to just sleep. If he could confide in somebody. He couldn't even talk clearly about that with his own mother for fear of worrying her. He remembered he had once even looked for support from a girl ghost in a bathroom. Now he was even banned from going into students bathrooms.

"Me too. Well… tonight I was held back in Gryffindor's common room. This 6th year girl asked me at the last minute to help her. She was waiting to catch me when I was walking back to my room, she is struggling with some issues. She went on and on forever, I was finally on my way back when I heard something and I went there to check... You had some bad luck going on Malfoy; I had never been delayed in this way during my patrol."

After a long pause she added, "you know Malfoy, I think I can help you."

"Well, yes, I think you are already doing it… at least I hope so." He said looking again briefly in her direction, hopeful she was helping him. Anyway this was so strange, Hermione Granger walking calmly by his side apparently willing to help him.

"Of course I am." She took in his image before adding, "but what I mean is, I can tell you many things about Nymphadora, and Sirius. I knew them. I talked to them many times. I was there in many important incidents and conversations. I know Teddy, Nymphadora's baby, and your aunt Andromeda Tonks too," she made sure to mention his aunt's name , it was a shame that he hadn't had a relationship with his own mother's sister, "and if you are still interested in the files, I could get them for you, and nobody will now."

"Really?" He asked, feeling really incredulous. "Would you really do that?"

Why would anyone volunteer to help him? And least from all, her. He wasn't used to that kind of behavior. He was used to revenge and keeping score of the wrongs.

Maybe it was just the potion acting on his behalf. Yes , it was probably that.

"Absolutely, if you would like me to," answered Hermione, with the conviction that it was a responsibility to help whenever it was in her hands.

"That would be...wonderful," he confirmed.

They stopped, they had arrived at her door.

"Good, I can come to your room tomorrow, and we can take a look at our schedules. We can choose a time that might work for both of us. Are you here tomorrow at around 4?" She asked, putting her hand softly in the column of her small porch and looking directly at his eyes.

"Usually not here by 4,"he said, maintaining eye contact "but I could make it happen, no problem."

"Good, then I'll see you tomorrow Malfoy." She turned to climb the step to her porch.

She was committing to help her archenemy again; it wasn't a problem. She was not the kind to hold grudges, especially now that she saw he was capable of being sincere about his life.

When he entered his room he realized it had been half an hour. Really the luckiest half an hour in his whole life. The Felix-felicis had been the real deal. Maybe even a very expensive, high quality batch. Dang! Even the little bottle had been extra fancy, a fine crystal bottle in its box of carved wood with the green velvety inside.

He had been looking for a little bit of information about his family, and now, he had been offered not only that, in an uncompromising way; even more, Granger was going to provide him with stories about them, anecdotes, and who knows what more.

It was so nice to be able to enjoy a nice long night's sleep. After many weeks and months of tortuous nights.


	5. The least horrible place for the meeting

**5\. The Least Horrible Place to Meet**

Next morning Hermione met her two friends outside the overage 7th year students' rooms. There were two dormitories for them, one for boys and one for girls. They were going to go together to breakfast, as they usually did.

"Hi Harry," Hermione said happily to her dear friend when they were coming out of the boys-men dormitory. Then, after a quick peck to Ron, "good morning won-won."

Harry chuckled. He had seen her change over time. Grow and be influenced by them. When he first met her, she loathed breaking rules, but they had shown to her that, sometimes, the end justifies the means. She had learned, and now she was trying lightheartedness.

"Really Hermione? When are you going to stop doing that? Lavender might one day hear you. I might feel inconsequential for you but not for me." complain Ron with a forced smile and combing his hand through his hair.

He was thinking of the embarrassing situation he would be in if his former sweetheart heard Hermione. She should learn to be more careful with her joking, he thought.

Lavender had to repeat the school year since she had to be hospitalized for a long time after the werewolf attack, and had not been able to take advantage of the other option.

"Ron, I think some of your skills are already rubbing into her," said Harry, still laughing.

"She better not use them on me," Ron said to Harry, raising an eyebrow with a warning intent.

He was the one in charge of the joking around there, wasn't he? Plus he was the expert and knew how to do it thoughtfully, he was sure.

"Come off it, Ron. If I don't mind those memories; why would you?" Said Hermione holding his arm.

"Okay Hermione... Can we change the subject? What about Quidditch? Talking about Quidditch is always fun," Ron told her with a partially friendly, partially still annoyed grimace.

"Maybe not for me, Ronnie," said Hermione looking at him with a frown.

He always wanted to talk about quidditch, the stupid game. Those talks bore her to no end, but she tried to endure them. Not only that, she tried to muster some interest, to ask him questions, to listen, but that was all he wanted to talk about, ALL the time. He was never really interested in what was going on in her mind. Whenever she tried to talk about some interesting thing she was trying to learn, he always started yawning and looking away and he seemed like he wanted to escape to go to a more entertaining place.

"Could you stop trying those weird nicknames, what about you just call me my king... oh! ... Wait! ...no, no, forget about that one too."

Being called a king was good but in his case it also carried some uncomfortable images of the past. They came to his mind slowly and painfully.

"Some not very pleasant memories with that one either, eh?" Laughed Harry. "Malfoy ruined it for you." Harry continued laughing while Ron just curled his lips in annoyance.

" Well, Yeah! Being reminded of the Slytherin ferret prat is never pleasant."

At the mention of their classmate Hermione remembered. "Hey, speaking about Malfoy," she said, thinking he had to briefly meet the Slytherin boy later that day to make plans. "You know, I need to talk to him for a while, maybe half an hour, maybe an hour, later during the week."

"Why?" Asked Ron, opening his eyes wide with surprise his mouth twisted, there was horror in his face.

"I think he needs help with a couple of things," said Hermione. She suddenly thought she needed first to ask Malfoy if he cared about them knowing; he had said something about wanting to be low-key about it. She was not about to blurt his confession of hardship. She released her boyfriend's arm a little concerned by his reaction.

It was probably not the best time to bring the subject. Not specially after the memories they had recalled from their former classmate. Even though Harry and Hermione had always been willing to give Draco another chance, Ron had never really wanted to put everything behind; he still resented him. He still thought he should pay for the rest of his life.

Ron flushed with irritation, his ears started to turn a little red and he cocked his head slightly to one side while he asked her dragging his words, "and why you?"

"Because I offered," said Hermione.

Well, it should be as simple as that.

To that reply Ron stopped walking and turned to Hermione, and feeling even more irritated told her, "alright, I don't get it, why, from all people, you are the one that is going to help him? And WHY would you offer?"

Yes, it definitely hadn't been the best time to bring up the subject.

Feeling uncomfortable with the rising tension, Harry decided it was better to flee and let them solve their issues on their own. He interrupted, "You know what? I am just going to hurry to breakfast. I want to meet Ginny. I'll see you there."

They nodded, hardly even looking his way and returned to their argument, while he rushed out of there.

"I think he might feel comfortable with me helping him," answered Hermione while she rearranged her school bag on her shoulder.

Why would he fuss so much? It wasn't such a big deal, speaking to someone for an hour. Did he think she should just talk to him now that they were together? She had been hanging around boys since she entered Hogwarts, and Ron had been one of those boys; there was nothing wrong with talking to a boy.

"COMFORTABLE! So dandy of the big prat. Hermione, what's wrong with you? Have you forgotten how nasty he was to you? Why would YOU help him?"

He had probably also forgotten he had been nasty to her too, but the cruel difference was that he was supposed to be her friend while he was being nasty.

"He might have changed Ron."

"Well, I need to see that. I'll go with you,"

"No. I don't think that's a good idea. Let me ask him first. I think he might prefer to meet just with me in private," she said with a worried look on her face. He was taking this very seriously. She didn't need all that worry. She knew how to take care of herself. She had been doing it for years. She had been, many times, in way more complicated situations.

"In private? Let me ask him first?" Repeated Ron dragging the words again, "are you mental Hermione?"

"Look," said Hermione. "He is in a tough spot, so I said I could give him a hand."

"Hermione, you're really weird sometimes. This is an evil prat, not a vulnerable house elf... even if he looks like one."

"And what exactly does that mean?" She pulled her eyebrows together, she didn't appreciate that and felt a stabbing pain in her heart. She would like him to be more empathetic, less vengeful. The bloke had gone through so much lately, Ron should know or at least have an idea about it. He shouldn't just start criticizing and mocking.

"Oh! you are not going to defend him, are you?" Bicker Ron, his eyes narrowed.

"Ronald Weasley, you are all backwards! For all I know house elves look exactly the way they should! I don't appreciate you being disrespectful of how anybody looks," brawl Hermione getting agitated. "And I think you should be thankful; I am trying to include your opinion in MY decision. I wanted you to know and have a say in where I should meet him. I wanted you to be comfortable and at ease, even though this is my decision," spatted Hermione.

"Okay, okay," Ron said, raising his hands to make her stop, backing off after being reprimanded. "Do as you please." He huffed and asked. 'What are your ideas?"

"Thank you Ron." Hermione relaxed when he saw him give ground, and continued, "I thought maybe we could talk in the great hall, in a corner far from the crowd, or either in my or his room or maybe I could meet him somewhere around the lake."

"Let me see. In the great hall there could be many witnesses; which would be awkward, so, no. Never your bedroom, and neither his, too private. That leaves us with the least horrible possibility which is the lake, at least, if I need to, I could keep an eye on you from afar," concluded Ron.

"Thank you Ron," Hermione answered and offered him her hand to continue walking together to breakfast.

...

As agreed, Hermione knocked on Draco's door at 4 pm sharp. He invited her to come in. They quickly saw her mornings were busy. In the late afternoon they had the most substantial meal of the day that should not be skipped, though at different times from each other never running into each other. His classes ended at 6, so they agreed to meet that Friday, at 6:30.

She had been standing next to his desk; Draco had offered her a chair but she had refused. He had been sitting nonchalantly on his desk facing her. When he thought they had reached an agreement he was about to stand up from the desk but Hermione still had to tell him about the place of their meeting so she spoke again.

"I need us to meet somewhere around the lake; do you have any favorite place there?"

"Around the lake!?" He frowned. "Are you serious? Here is way more comfy," he retorted.

Why the heck would they go all the way there, when they could meet in a comfortable warm place like his bedroom? It was October for crying out loud, some evenings could get really chilly. Besides having to walk all the way there. What was the point?

"Yes, I know, but Ron prefers it if we meet there."

"Please tell me you didn't invite Weasley," urged Draco grimacing.

It seemed, after all, this wasn't a very good idea, to let her get involved in his thoughts and worries; she apparently wanted to drag her friends in too.

"Oh, no, not at all," said Hermione, shaking her head . "I didn't even tell him what we are going to talk about; it is just that he feels more comfortable if you and I meet at the lake."

Hermione was looking at him, he didn't wear the uniform anymore. In fact he hadn't for the last two years, he just wore formal dress clothes, usually dark. He sounded alright and his clothes were fancy but he looked ill, thin and with dark circles under his eyes. Was he actually sick? she wondered. She knew of very young people who had gotten terrible illnesses. In fact, she remembered how, in elementary school, she was shocked one summer, the first day back to school; when one of her classmates didn't come back, and there was a rumor he had passed away from cancer. The rumor had been later confirmed. They all had sent notes with condolences to his family, and she had felt depressed for days, remembering his face, knowing she would never ever see him again.

"And why do you allow him to tell you what to do Granger?" He said and with that making her snap out of her memories. "This has nothing to do with him. What does he think he is? Your personal bodyguard?"

"Oh! You don't know, do you?" Hermione said, her eyes big in realization; he hadn't been around to notice.

So with a small smile she informed him. "He is my boyfriend."

"Weasley?! Nooo!" He said, furrowing an eyebrow and slowly shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't play Quidditch, do you?" Malfoy asked her with a smirk and a quiet chuckle afterwards.

That was just unbelievable, Weasley? Her boyfriend? He seemed like a pretty average guy in the brains department. And she- well she was in a category of her own. What did they even have in common? But maybe Weasley didn't mind being always left behind by her. Yes, maybe it was that, maybe Weasley, contrary to what he had perceived, didn't mind looking so average next to her brilliance, probably he just did resent people shining more than he ever did.

Even if he hadn't ever been nice to her he could recognize the witch was unbelievably smart. No background in magic and she could still hand all the pure bloods their butts. Maybe that was one of the reasons he had hated her, he had never been able to beat her grades. When he had started school he thought he was going to be the number one, the best student. And then she appeared in the picture.

"No!?" She answered with narrowed eyes and a look that could have let him know she knew where he was going.

"So, no chance a bludger hit you hard in the head, right?" Joked Malfoy with an amused smile.

"You are not being very nice Malfoy." She lifted her chin up, pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. She was trying to help him and he was making fun of them, the prat.

"Okay, I am sorry," he said, still amused. "It's just that I wouldn't have pictured you two together in a million years. I always thought you and Potter were together or the ones that might end up a couple."

He was discreetly looking at her, she had changed out of her uniform. Her jeans and light T-shirt emphasized her femininity; the way it twisted around her curves. Yes, she could be Potter's perfect partner, but they weren't together; he had heard a rumor the Weasley girl was the lucky one.

Malfoy saying sorry was something she thought she would never see, it made her put her guard down. "Not you too. Many people have told me that, even my mom asked me if I liked him." Hermione tittered at the memory.

"And?" As soon as he asked, he found himself bewildered that he had. He was curious though, he really had thought they had been together all those months alone in hiding, just the two of them.

"Not that it is any of your business." She grinned briefly at him. "But no, I have never liked Harry that way. We are sort of boring together. We act like a couple that has been married for 25 years; maybe we are too similar. Ron makes both of us be more spontaneous and have fun." She realized she didn't have to answer, but she didn't mind engaging in conversation. It was weird though, conversation with Malfoy, yet what she had told him was just the truth; no shame in that.

"You are right, it wasn't any of my business," came his reply. "But if I ever have a psychiatric practice you can visit me. I'll help you out your little Weasley problem for free, as a way to thank you." He chuckled and continued, "no, but in all seriousness, thank you for what you are doing Granger. I don't think nowadays many people would be willing to help me."

"Yes Malfoy, but you didn't answer my question." Said Hermione tapping her fingers on top of his desk.

"What?.. oh, yeah...uhm... no, no favorite spots. You?"

"Yes, I do." Hermione said. There is a place around the lake I like a lot. We could meet at the entrance of the astronomy tower, and maybe I could show it to you."

They agreed to that. He accompanied her to the door, still thinking of the incongruous image of Granger and Weasley together.


	6. Opening the Door to the Soul

**6\. Opening the Door to the Soul**

It was now Friday afternoon and they talked. Hermione recounted many things she knew. Things about Nymphadora, Sirius, Andromeda and baby Teddy.

She poured her heart into her recollections and a few times her eyes had been clouded with tears. She had gotten especially tearful when she recounted the relationship between Nymphadora and Lupin, how their love was the most amazing, tender, devoted love she had ever seen, how his brilliant cousin adore the good, gentle soul in him, how she didn't care society sort of despise him and his ragged clothes; she had been able to see the greatness in him through everything.

A hundred questions and emotions were pounding Draco's brain while she talked. So, they had been pleasant people. They had had plenty of friends that had cared about them and missed them.

It had shocked him, the few times Hermione had gotten teary eyed; that's how much she loved them. She loved his relatives and he hadn't even cared to meet them. What was that like? He wondered; to be cherished in that way, to be missed...and not being totally despised, irrelevant, even disposable... on his own, like him.

He thought that kind of fraternal love would probably make people feel warm inside, and he had felt his insides so cold for so long. His parents, he thought again, would have been the only people crying and missing him if he had been killed. If anything, he was probably even hated by many, maybe even wished dead. He had been part of the evil that had killed her friends. He was all alone.

So alone in his shattered world, and it was all his fault.

"Are you bored? You have been yawning a lot," she asked him a bit intrigued, her narrowed eyes also questioning.

How could he be bored if she had been providing the information he had wanted?

"No, not bored at all." he said slowly, reflecting, trying to stifle another yawn with his hand covering his mouth. "This whole thing is... maybe.. very emotionally intense and I am kind of drained. It's just that most nights I don't sleep a lot."

"A bunch of school work, I imagine," Hermione said, looking at him. Yes, he definitely looked ill but maybe it was just the lack of sleep he was referencing.

"No, is not really that," he said in a sad voice, sitting up from having been with his elbows on his leg and his hands clasped together. He closed his eyes to rub them briefly. "It is just difficult to fall asleep, and...some days I have very bad nightmares."

He was looking beaten down. The sky was beginning to get dark, and the wind felt colder. The beautiful view of the lake now seemed eerie.

"Really," said Hermione, while continuing to look at him with curiosity, intending to figure out what was going on with him.

...So he had nightmares.

"All this time I have thought you were actually feeling alright. The day I found you at the archives office you sounded sort of down."

She also thought of the information professor McGonagall had given her, but she couldn't reference it.

"but, otherwise, you don't seem to have many problems. I mean, you even joke like... a lot."

He had returned to his previous sitting position with his elbows on his knees, his arms now just folded down. Before replying, he reached up and massaged his temples slowly with his left hand. His head was hurting, he was so tired, sleepy and his heart and soul were in shambles again.

"Yes... probably... it is just an act I have practiced all my life... Really Granger, I don't even know who I am anymore. I know I was a proud jerk. I remember I knew how to play the role. I believed it was the right way to be, and... yes, I liked it. But now, I cannot just be that anymore."

After everything crumbled, after all the suffering, he had thought and thought, many times, every day, about everything that had happened. Contemplating many different facts, analyzing them, and finally he had been forced to recognize that he had been terribly wrong. . "I am embarrassed of my past, I wish I could change it...and yet, I really don't know how to be anything else.. I feel totally lost. So I pretend that I am still the same, but there's nothing left to justify it; I know it, even if there's a part of me which would like me to still have reasons to feel proud, and not just a piece of garbage."

It was probably the lack of sleep, having heard all those anecdotes, witnessing the love with which Hermione referred to them, and thinking everything he was going through was his own fault, what in the end had made him open his soul. It wasn't that difficult in her company. She truly exuded compassion, he had a taste of that, the time she found him in the archives office. She had overlooked the rules to aid him and had even offered additional help. She also had trusted him enough to be able to get tearful in his presence. But it was certainly still difficult for him to open up in the day to day world; it was terrifying.

Hermione was worried now, but she saw he was still elaborating something, so she just stayed silent. He probably needed to talk, to be listened to. She continued looking at him. He was reflecting all right; she could see it. The way his gaze was low, unfocused, at moments his head shaking a bit. He didn't seem to care that the wind was blowing his thin hair making it messy. He seemed to be buried deep inside his head.

Was there any way out of this hell hole? He thought with desperation. He finally added, "look at this for example." And he moved his hand pointing from her to him and back. "What the heck am I doing talking to you? I think that if I had any bit of dignity left, I should spare you the trouble of even looking at me...I mean it. I know I treated you really wrong...yet I feel so ashamed and humiliated that I think I have to put an act to save face, because I don't know other ways around people, and it feels scary. You see, yes, I am so down the food chain that, you offer me help, and I can't even afford to say no, and give you the possibility to never again look at my fucking face." He just shook and shook his head as if in a trance.

"Wow! Malfoy, you are terrifying me." Hermione had a worried expression on her face. She felt she had seen him travel to the gates of hell. It had been like when the dementors were around. A thick cloud of pain, of misery surrounded him, and she could feel it. She felt extremely cold for a moment contemplating his abyss of despair.

But it seemed he had hardly paid attention as he continued without even looking at her or acknowledging she had said something, "and now, I should tell you I am sorry and also thank you for everything you did for me during my trial; yet, I am such a coward, I hadn't done it."

And perhaps he would have never really even considered doing it, if she had not been the better person and offered help. He swallowed hard, his mouth was so dry.

"Everything in my life broke," he said. "I broke it all, I was mean and selfish and dumb and I don't know how to get out of this horrible place."

Hermione was looking shocked. She could see him in total crisis. She was really scared for him, so she said, "you know Malfoy, I really, really think, you are actually being brave. Facing our own mistakes can be frightening. The bigger the harder... sometimes, it might just be easier to keep sliding down… I think."

Hermione looked at her watch and with an apology in her face said, "but... I am really sorry... I really should go back now. I have other commitments. Come on, let's go. I need to tell you a couple of things."

They started their walk back. Hermione was truly concerned; she had never witnessed that level of intense despair.

Now she could see clearly why he had been recurring to alcohol before coming back to school. Why professor McGonagall seemed worried about him, and naturally, she wanted to help make everything better. That's who she was; she had once even felt pity for a house elf who despised her.

She said, "you know, I want to offer you the possibility of my friendship. I don't know if you'd be interested in being friends with me. I don't know if that could even work, but anyway, I would like you to know that you can count on me. I would like to be your friend. I would like to at least try."

She was thinking of ways to help lift him up. You can't just let someone, anyone, just rot in their own cataclysm. Especially if that person is showing signs of change.

A caring heart that can feel the pain of others; that was what she had, since she was a little one. Her parents used to tell the story of how, one day, watching a movie, when she wasn't even two, she cried for the fate of the little heroine. The little orphan girl in the movie was told nobody could ever love her, and that had made it; she wailed her heart.

She was born with a heart full of empathy, but was also encouraged to use it. Her parents had shown her it was good to care.

"Granger, thank you, I really appreciate that." He did, who offers friendship to a piece of work like him. He absolutely needed that; he had been so extremely lonely. He needed someone to talk to.

Her caring heart was definitely her strongest asset, anyone could see it; that was why people liked her. A know-it-all, that had no idea how to engage with light hearted humor, wouldn't have done it; but her caring did.

"And maybe, since I am trying for us to build a friendship, I should just use your first name. Is that okay?" Hermione looked at him, and as a response he nodded. Then she continued, "are you busy this weekend Draco?"

"Mmh...Yes...I have to go visit my parents, and also go check the manor. I will be leaving tomorrow morning and will be back Sunday evening," he answered, looking away, at the lake, at the landscape at anything but her. Goodness! Having to recognize his parents were both in jail.

"How are your parents?" Hermione asked in a soft tone looking briefly at him and then at the path. She wasn't sure he would like that, but friends get involved, don't they? Carefully and respectfully, but they do.

"Ur...I guess as well as it could be expected...under the circumstances," he answered, this time turning his head completely away to, again, avoid looking at her .

"I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by asking." She said moving some branches out of the way. "I hope you know you can always say so when you don't feel like talking about something."

"Thanks... it's just embarrassing having to recognize where they are."

Azkaban was horrible. It had been a terrible traumatic experience. Having to eat the disgusting food they prepared. The porridge that looked and tasted more like dog food. The uncomfortable concrete beds with its thin old cushions infested with bugs. Some nights he decided to just use the blanket until he was able to more or less get rid of them, little by little squishing them one by one and also having the house elf bring some concoction to kill them.

Having just the house elf as a visitor, except for two occasions, one of them he was visited by Professor McGonagall once by Professor Flitwick.

It had been an experience that sealed in a dramatic way the two years that shook the foundation of his life.

"Well, now you know there are a pair of ears ready to listen to you, if you ever need them."

He just nodded.

"I was thinking maybe we could meet again."

She hoped he wouldn't feel tempted to drink again, after seeing what kind of thoughts were brewing in his mind. She was making an effort to show him he could count on her.

"Is Monday good or sometime next week? I was thinking of getting you the archives."

"Yes, of course, Monday is good, but Is it not going to be too much trouble for you?"

"No, not at all."

Look at him, analyze, make sure he is not going to run home tomorrow and get drunk again.

"And don't worry, nobody will suspect anything, they were my friends."

"That would be really nice, thank you," answered Draco, frowning a bit in realization of how amazing this situation really was.

"So, I'll get you Sirius' records first. And when you are done I'll get Nymphadora's. Also, I wanted to ask you if you would be okay with Harry and Ron knowing you want to find out more about your family."

She needed to know how much she could share with her boyfriend, he was going to be full of questions.

"I really don't know, let me think about it, please."

"Yes...no problem." Said Hermione feeling that there was actually going to be a problem with Ron if she couldn't explain. Maybe she could offer some reasons to tell her friends. So after a moment she added "But I really think Harry could help us in many ways. You know, as I told you, your uncle Sirius, as Harry's godfather, left him his house; that house still has many of their historic possessions and documents. And, as Teddy's godfather, he could help us too... Harry is an amazing human being, you can trust him; you can trust Ron too."

"Sounds like a good possibility, but please let me think about it."

He wasn't sure he could really trust both of them. Maybe Harry, he, after all, might have similar values than Hermione; she said it herself. But Ron... he perceived him as vindictive.

"Sure." Let him take his time, tonight is not a time to put more pressure on him, she concluded for herself. It was a time to try to lift his spirits up.

They had been walking carefully. The daylight had vanished. As a consequence their talking had been slow, as they had had to pay attention to their footing.

They had reached the astronomy tower, but Hermione thought the right thing to do was to just keep walking together to their rooms. Ron was not going to be very happy about her decision; but she could not just dump Draco, immediately after having witnessed his pain and having offered him friendship. In the end, Ron would grow to be okay with her decision, she hoped.

...

Draco slept the whole night and more. This time, he could say, he had slept like a baby. No nightmares. It had been almost 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. He felt rested, peaceful and full of energy. He had needed it so badly, and it was bliss.

He could have never imagined what it was like to not be able to sleep , until he had lived through that hell . Where the mind goes dizzy, unfocused, and lethargic, yet wild and crazy. Each day exhausted, half alive, half dead. So tired and sleepy. Longing to rest. But actually dreading the moment when 'trying to sleep' had to be faced. Because at that moment, dread awakened his mind and body. A shaky, trembling body controlled by a deranged mind.

And then, the slow, snail-like torture. The extreme weariness and the inability to relax. The tossing and turning. The watching the clock more often than necessary. The fighting the fact. The begging. The feeling of doom as dawn gets closer. Then the resignation that finally allowed him some sleep.

Also, some nights he was awakened by the terrible nightmares that left him sweating, shaking with troubled emotions.

That was what Draco had been going through. Every night. Some nights it was way rougher than others, but none, until now and the last time he talked to Hermione openly, of uninterrupted peaceful sleep. At some level he might really fear that, in the innocence of sleep, he will continue to see the truth. To hear the stories of his wrongs. The unadorned, unfiltered, straightforward, even when told in metaphors, stories. Probably, at that deep, unconscious level, he was terrified. His guilt was the demon torturing him.

Guilt is a thing. A thing that can eat you alive slowly. A monster that has your face. A horrible monster we like to keep hidden. We keep it secluded. Secret. And it wreaks havoc in the confines of our soul.

But last night he had trusted someone to see a little bit of his monster. She hadn't been horrified. She had understood, and showed compassion, and he felt a little less scared of his monster.

There was a pattern here. Could he see it?

He went to visit his parents, and now that he had some, he was able to give them peace and tolerance.

His father was the same crazy, stubborn wreck. He hadn't been allowed even to touch him. They had to see each other through a thick glass. It was special treatment for special prisoners. But this time he had the capacity to let him talk, to listen to him, and he saw him as an ill man with a broken soul; so he didn't argue with him. He didn't agree with him but didn't fight him either.

He saw his mother too. Before he entered the visiting room he was warned again, no hugs, they could shake and hold hands, but that was all. She looked very thin, ill and worried. But when she saw him a light sparkled in her eyes. Her only son was there to spend time with her. She wanted to hug him but knew better. So she held his hand for ages.

"How are you sweetie?" She asked, wiping a couple of tears from her eyes.

"I am fine, mother, but you look tired, how've you been?"

They talked about her struggles there. How she hated the food. The long hours doing nothing. About the many times, cold, sleepless nights. He listened to her. He remembered how she once told him, it was very important for her to be listened to; so he did. He asked her questions, listened and tried to understand.

He thought maybe giving her a meaningful task could distract her; as he was distracted at school. He knew she cared about him so he asked her if she would be interested in having a sort of book club with him. The only issue was that she was going to be the one doing the reading; he was too busy at school. He could get her books he might be interested in. She could then read them and tell him about them. She jumped to the idea. She would be delighted. Something to look forward to.

It was almost time for the visitors to leave, so she said what she saw.

"You look very good today sweetie."

Her eyes sparkling. He was her baby. She could remember him as a youngster cuddling in her arms until he fell asleep. How he adored her when he was a small child. How her heart melted when she looked at her little boy, tumbling down when he was learning to stand, to walk, how he used to pull at her robes with his little chubby arms and make sweet whimper noises so that she would hold him and now he was almost a grown man.

She had truly wanted the best life for her son and yet he had ended up having the worst kind of experiences because of them.

"I feel really good mother." He gave her a smile full of love. "Last night I slept like a baby."

"You don't know how happy that makes me," she had received his love through his eyes, and it was already growing in her. She too might be able to rest peacefully tonight; her son was all right.

It was time to say goodbye. She grabbed his hand and said, "take care my dear. I'll wait for the book you'll send. Keep up your efforts. And you should bring a bouquet of flowers to professor McGonagall; I can see she's been doing wonders for your wellbeing."

"I'll get some mother," he said, but he thought of getting two; the most beautiful one for his new friend.


	7. Why Would You Help

**7\. Why Would You Help?**

A few people here and there had seen Hermione and Draco walking together, coming out of the secluded area near the tower, apparently in peace. How could anybody not? It had been Friday evening, when everyone wants to be out having fun. A group of Slytherin 7th years was not going to let this opportunity to taunt a Gryffindor just pass. Especially if those boys hadn't been touched by the suffering of the war.

When they saw Ron, Ginny and Harry arrive at the great hall that Saturday evening, after playing quidditch, they had to take advantage of the perfect opportunity.

"Hey Weasley! I saw your girlfriend very happy in the company of the Slytherin aristocracy," tease one of the boys at the Slytherin table. The others cackled and celebrated the attempt.

Ginny didn't get the reference but understood the comment was clearly meant to bother her brother. She could see him turn red, with fury, on the face.

"Get lost," said Harry.

"Guard your brand new cauldron Weasley, somebody more experienced may want to cook in it," heckled another boy; all of them laugh again.

Harry quickly grabbed Ron's arm and walked him to the Gryffindor table, while Ginny made a rude hand gesture to the boy.

"What's going on?" Asked Ginny once they sat. Fortunately, it was early enough and the hall was not full, they sat on the same side of the table

"It's probably Hermione," said Harry.

"That much I surmised on my own, thank you." She told Harry a little annoyed "What happened?" Ginny asked her brother again, turning to see him, with questioning eyes.

"Did she go talk to Draco?" Asked Harry, bending a little forward, his elbow on the table as to be able to look at his friend on Ginny's other side.

"What?!" Asked Ginny looking at Harry to her right and then at her brother to her left with big eyes full of surprise.

"Yes, she forking did," answered Ron with anger in his voice. "I asked her to be discreet. And she had to go probably strolling around with the stupid prat. Damn it Hermione! I don't know what game she is playing."

"But why?" Insisted Ginny.

They had to stop and look around when the same group of Slytherins started laughing and catcalling somebody. Boys will be boys, especially if hardship hasn't helped them grow up yet. These boys had run away to shelter from the war.

Of course the reason for their catcalling was Hermione walking in their direction.

"Hi," she greeted them when she arrived at the table. She had just ignored the boys and she noticed that Ron looked upset, the way he was looking at her, so she didn't even try to hug him or kiss his cheek.

"See what you did Hermione?" Complained Ron.

"What are you talking about? Boys whistle at your sister and you don't think it is her fault. Sorry Ginny," she apologized looking at her friend, she hoped she was not getting her in trouble with Ron too.

"I didn't do anything to provoke that," she said with irritation, her eyes now back on Ron.

True, something weird was going on; she was never the target of that kind of treatment, but she couldn't think of anything she had done to cause it. Boys catcalling at her! What was that? She put her bag on the bench. Even on Saturday she had been to the library.

"Oh, don't be... you know what you did to provoke that," charge Ron. He was getting all riled up, his ears starting to turn red. Hermione was sitting down next to him.

"Hey Ron," said Ginny quickly in a concerned voice. "You better take your argument outside, unless you want everyone to be well informed about it." Then she started scanning the room to figure out who could have been overhearing. There were students coming in and out of the hall all the time on Saturdays. Luna was already there next to Neville.

"Right, right," Ron told her and with a movement of his head he motioned Hermione for the door, then he stood up. "Come on, let's go."

"But.. I am starving. Can we talk after eating?" petitioned Hermione with her voice and face expression. She was still sitting and hadn't realized the full extent of what was going on.

"So let me get this, you can accommodate the needs of a stupid dodo that loves to insult you, but you won't do it for your own boyfriend... I am leaving," finish Ron, knowing that Hermione wouldn't just let him walk away. He could now predict, after all these years of knowing her, how she was going to react.

"Okay Ron, let's go and talk," said Hermione, getting up slowly, slightly annoyed.

They left the hall and walked silently outside to a spot where they thought they were safe from people eavesdropping.

"What was that all about?" Started Hermione, her hands folded across her chest and her face showing her consternation.

"People saw you talking to the brainless doofus." Complained Ron.

She moved her gaze away and scratched her right temple to gather her thoughts, so all this was about that.

"Oh Ron! They act like that because they are stupid. I don't know if it has anything to do with Malfoy, if that's what you mean."

"It does, before you arrived they... oh! it pisses me off so much... they bug me saying they saw you two together. What would you say to that?"

"Ron, do you trust me?" She started with narrowed eyes, reflecting on how to handle this. The brief concern she had had about Ron getting upset could become a reality and she couldn't tell him almost anything so he will have to let her do what was needed by trust alone.

"I think so." he answered, wondering what the hell trust had to do with anything.

"If you trust me, you are going to have the perfect opportunity to show it. Yes, Malfoy and I walked back together to our rooms; it needed to be done that way."

She paused, while some students walked by, she embraced herself and looked sideways at the 4 second year Ravenclaws until she thought it was safe to continue.

"I can't tell you anything right now, but I will Ron, at some point."

This was a tricky place to be. She had to be careful with her words and actions. Yet, she needed him to trust her. That was important at the moment and also in a relationship. She wanted to help and Draco was not ready to share anything with anybody else at the moment.

She continued, "I think what I've been discussing with Malfoy is important, and want to do it, but I need your trust; I really do."

"But this is not about trust, Hermione. It's about how incoherent this situation is. It is just stupid, do you even realize who you were talking to? I don't understand what this is and why you're doing it. He is an evil bastard."

She flinched, there he was again not controlling his own emotions. "Ron, please don't call him names... you know-" She couldn't continue.

She needed to tell him she wanted to help Draco get to a better place. That it was very sad for her to hear him being disrespectful towards him even if she couldn't tell him exactly why it was the worst time for that attitude.

He was not in the mood for scolding. He was hungry and hunger made him intolerant. He had been previously riled up, and his hurts were not being attended by her. And by Merlin he was jealous. His girl was defending his own enemy and had spent so much time alone with the git; far from other people, in a lovely place, where they could see the sunset with its beautiful romantic colors. He wasn't dumb. Situations could be a catalyst for something else.

So he had jerked his head very annoyed, tsked and cut her off lifting his hand as he began speaking.

"Stop that stupid nonsense Hermione. You were one the one person he attacked the most. And now you are there, doing what for him? And you are defending him. Really? This is the person that called you bloody names!" He was speaking very loudly at her now.

"You are losing your head Ron. Maybe we should just stop talking about this right now."

"Well, maybe you should never talk to him again." Ron said, crossing his arms on his chest.

"I... I am sorry... we already agreed to meet again this Monday," she said, a concerned grimace on her face and her heart full of worries about how he was going to take this new information.

"You know what, just forget it." He said dismissing her with a swift movement of his hand, "I don't want to be around you right now," then turning on his heels and walking away to the great hall.

He was angry. He was pissed off, but he wasn't going to skip his meal for this; so, he was going to sit in a place where, if she came back, she couldn't sit next to him.

Hermione stood there frozen looking at the last few roses of the season, soon those plants would have no more flowers for long months and she felt even sadder. She had been hungry, starving, but not anymore; she was really sad.

Throughout all her Hogwarts life Ron had possessed a unique ability to hurt her.

Her parents would say she was doing something worthwhile. That she should always be proud of good deeds, but her boyfriend didn't get her. He was upset and actually making her feel like she was doing something wrong. Then trying to tell her what to do...was that right? He was not able to trust her. What was she supposed to do? Stop being herself and please him or continue infuriating him by being true to her beliefs.

Better to go to the library or to her room. Anyway, in her room she kept some dry fruits and nuts. If she was hungry again, that should suffice for the day.


	8. Showing How Thankful You Are

**8\. Showing How Thankful You Are**

Draco went to his home. He could see the consequences of just being able to afford the one elderly house elf at their service. Now, there was not enough money to keep everything brilliantly beautiful. They had to pay many very expensive fees. Their lawyers had been the best in the county, but their exorbitant fees matched their prestige. Many times a single case was able to bankrupt a family, and in this situation they had been working for the three members of his family. They had sold all their other properties and had mortgaged their manor. The reduced money coming in from his father's company had to be divided mainly between the mortgage and his studies. No extra money for clothes, fancy colognes or new brooms. He will have to make do with what he already had, at least until he could make money himself.

He had told the house elf to forget about cleaning the inside of the house; that cleaning could wait for him. He could just try keeping the gardens in check, but his solely elderly work wasn't enough.

He was sure, every time he was going to go back, he was going to be hit by the image of the destruction surrounding him.

He worked, in the gardens and the house, during all the time he had left that weekend. It was a very large state, but empty of people and joy. Used, now, just to collect dust and bugs. His loneliness was more clearly felt when he was there; surrounded by so much useless space. Clearly, the inside of the house was perfect for the spiders to grow, they had migrated from the gardens; there were cobwebs everywhere.

The situation outside wasn't better. One of the albino peacocks had died and was rotting in between bushes; he buried it.

The gardens were overgrown. There were weeds and dead leaves everywhere. Dead flowers still on plants and ground. Rotting apples and pears under the trees. Bushes and trees growing wildly out of shape.

The garden work was exhausting and time consuming. And he wasn't used to it. But he had to learn. He used to be rich. And he could pout all he wanted, but that wasn't going to solve anything.

He was beginning to realize that riches are not as important as having people to share them with; because he was so lonely in that monstrosity of a house.

But still, he couldn't finish. Everything was piling up, yet, it was time to go back to school.

...

It was a long weekend. Ron and Hermione avoided each other. Harry had gone to her room to give her back her bag and suggested to her to give Ron some time to cool down.

So she made sure to occupy herself in something useful, her studies; and they proved to be twice as difficult under the circumstances.

She was now, Sunday evening, sitting at her desk trying to organize her papers. All of them seemed important. She had put her mind and soul in each one of them. Impossible to keep them all, she thought. Then a knock on her door. Maybe Harry.

There was surprise in her realization of who it was.

"Ron," She said.

He wanted to talk.

It had been torture for him. He had been angry and sad. He felt he hated her and at the same time missed her, but he felt it was she who needed to apologize. She had started everything. He was just an innocent victim of her dumb actions, but apparently she was not going to do it. He had expected her to come looking for him; then, crying, beg for his forgiveness. Tell him he was right. That she had been stupid, dumb, putting stress onto their relationship in this way, and all for a despicable human.

The hours passed and she was nowhere to be seen. He expected her to be there, for breakfast or lunch. He stalled, in the hope that she might arrive; so... she could finally apologize. He couldn't concentrate on anything. He was moving like an automat. He had been sitting there in his bed fidgeting with this or that.

It was almost time for dinner and Harry knew what was tormenting his friend. Ron looked like he was expecting someone, paying attention to any new unaccounted movement or sound. So he suggested that he went to talk to Hermione. "Just go talk to her." He had said.

"Hey," he started, fidgeting with the zipper in his jacket." You haven't been eating." He was on the little porch and she was on the threshold of the door.

She looked at his nervous hands and felt a little irritated, she could see he was struggling with his emotions and probably once again he was not going to say I am sorry, he never did, not when he mistakenly accused her cat of killing his stupid fake rat, not when he was mean to her after carrying the horcrux, not when in an attempt to protect Harry she had told professor McGonagall about the fire bolt… never, but she again ignored her hurt and said "I have, just not in the hall with you all."

She had just been snacking a little when needed, she wasn't very hungry anyway. She was that kind of person; when there was trouble, she couldn't mix it with the happiness of eating.

"We can't let this happen to us," he said, still fidgeting. He was a very insecure boy. He had needed his best friend and his sister to push him to come there. He needed to talk to her, they both had said.

"I agree. It's not pleasant," she lowered her gaze and sighed, "but maybe we have to clarify what -this- is. I have a suspicion we are not seeing the same thing."

"My problem is, you haven't told me anything." He looked to his left for a second then he combed his hair with his right hand deciding how to continue "What do you expect me to do? It seems that you are keeping secrets from me, with my worst enemy. It should be the other way around. It is like you cared more about him than about me. This is Malfoy for goodness sake. What the heck does he want?" He said, full of bitterness and jealousy. He had started calm, but little by little he was feeling more irritated; so he started raising his voice. He wanted to be her only endeavor in life. He was so hungry for attention and it was painful not getting it from her.

"I understand. You have told me." Answer Hermione, nodding a little." You're uncomfortable not knowing... but, do you realize you are actually asking me to betray my beliefs?" She paused for a brief moment to take a deep breath, she bit her lower lip, one could see the stress in her face .

"This is not for me to share; so, I cannot tell you right now. I asked you to trust me and be a little patient; I am going to solve this. Really Ron, you have known me for ages, and if you cannot trust me, then I don't know what you are doing with me."

That was exactly what she had been pondering, the fact that she couldn't continue a relationship with a boy that didn't get her.

That threat did it, he moved his hand to stroke the back of his neck, he wouldn't push it any farther, not for lack of wanting but for fear of trouble. "Okay, I'll trust you. But could you at least give me a hint. Then, this is about him, right? Is he in trouble?"

"No Ron, I am not telling you anything, maybe after I talk to him tomorrow." It was difficult not to feel exasperated, he was still digging for more.

"Okay. But please promise me you'll be discreet this time. You just saw what happens if you are not careful."

"Yes, I'll try. Yet, I can make promises about what I do but not about what other people can or cannot do, then you also have to be strong and not let what others think affect you."

"Easy for you to say when it's not— "she sent him an exasperated look." Sorry... I'll try,"

"Thank you,"

Ron finally asked her to go to dinner with him, he knew that was expected of him, but he was still not that happy with her.

They tried to be polite. The truth was they were both still annoyed at each other.

...

Draco came back to school. He made sure he brought the bouquets with him. He was happy. He couldn't believe his luck. Everyone recognized Hermione as a very smart person. Exceptional. Many loved her too. He had seen it in the past, even if he had hated it. And after everything he had done, she was still willing to show him kindness.

It was already dark. He had gone to see professor McGonagall first and had left Hermione flowers in his room.

Walking towards her bedroom he hoped Hermione would be there. Maybe some people would see him giving her flowers, but whatever, they could think whatever they want because he felt this was good. He felt a better person already; less sad and worried. Braver, he was moving towards leaving his misconceptions in the past. She had offered him the possibility of friendship, and he might be able to continue feeling better and finding his way with her help.

...

Hermione had been thinking. During dinner Ron still looked angry at her, or at least was a little silent. Like he wanted her to say something specific, yet not communicating clearly.

She knew he had a temper, and this situation was really messing with him. At the end of dinner he had paid more attention to the girl sitting beside him, probably to annoy her.

She had been thinking about how to solve the problem, and concluded she could try to introduce Draco to her group of friends. They, she was sure, would be willing to help and Ron would be able to relax once she didn't have to spend so much time alone with Draco.

This compassion in her heart was probably involved in starting a relationship with Ron. She had seen him struggle, in emotional pain, so she had sometimes helped, felt compassion; even after, while being her friend, he had been nasty to her.

He had always been grateful for her support when he had known. Maybe that had made him, little by little, have feelings for her. Now, perhaps, he was jealous of someone else having the possibility of living the same experience of being helped by her.

She heard a knock on her door, startled a bit, got up from her bed and went to answer the door. She wasn't expecting anybody; maybe it was Ron again.

"Hey Ma...Draco." She said, caught herself going for his surname and felt a little embarrassed.

She quickly noticed he seemed happy, maybe , but who could really tell; he had told her sometimes he just pretended to be... but then from somewhere in her brain she received a memo and uncomfortably noticed how handsome he looked , the light coming from the lamp at the end of the building created some shadows in his face that emphasized his features; subconsciously she reached for her hair to try to fix it, why did he always look so smooth?

"Hey Granger." He was smiling; he felt good about what he was going to do. "Are you busy?"

Oh! She remembered. This was trouble; she needed to get rid of him as quickly as possible. Hadn't she promised Ron she was going to be inconspicuous? And here he was, right there on her porch , Sunday night, knocking at her door, and...was that for her? A bouquet of flowers. She looked around briefly, trying to conceal her effort, thankfully she couldn't see anybody. She needed to act now so she said, "oh! yes, I am in the middle of an important paper."

"Oh!," he said a little disappointed, "sorry to bother you, but I really wanted to give you this now." And he offered her the flowers smiling again. "You know, mother told me I should show how thankful I am."

"This is so... thoughtful, thank you! She grabbed them delicately with both hands on the stems , when he let go of them she twirled them in her hands so she could rest them in her right arm. "They are just beautiful…" she looked at them for a moment, pursing her lips and then feeling a bit guilty she added, "hey, by the way, I needed to ask… now that you're here... about tomorrow... is it okay if I wait for you at the same spot we sat around the lake?"

"I was thinking about coming here to pick you up."

He was now suspicious. He had noticed her sounding strange and looking around, as if checking for witnesses. Why wouldn't she want them to walk together the next day? Maybe she didn't want to be seen with him. But, if she really wanted to have a friendship, that wasn't right so the brat in him decided to stall, and talking again in a slow manner he started rambling about many things, like: flowers, their possible friendship, school, even the weather, she saw her determined to not engage him in conversation so finally he added, "I really would like to come here to pick you up."

"Oh Draco! Thank you! But I wanted to go there to reflect about some issues. It is a nice place to go and think. It'll be perfect if I go beforehand, do it and then wait for you."

She knew those were excuses but she thought it wasn't a good idea to tell him she didn't want people to see them walking together to that solitary place. That Ron maybe didn't want them to be friends.

"Well, I guess it's totally fine then. I can catch up with you as soon as I am ready." He was looking intently at her trying to discover the truth. Were her friends giving her a hard time? Or, more likely, her boyfriend? Or was she too, like everybody else, worried to be caught engaging him? The Death Eater.

There were quick footsteps approaching. Hermione sensed some doom coming and with anxiety turn to see. It was Luna.

"Hi," Luna greeted them with bright shiny eyes as always.

NO! This could not be happening. Hermione's heart sank to her feet. Why? Could she hide the flowers? No, no way, that would be an assertion of guilt.

"Hi," said Draco, looking at the strange girl, she was a normal looking person, but it seemed that she always made an additional effort to decorate herself in weird ways. Tonight two enormous eagles were dangling from her ears.

"Hi Luna," Hermione greeted her friend back and didn't think twice about her attire, she was so used to her ways; she hoped everything will be alright.

"Wow! Those are some gorgeous flowers!" Luna said with an overexcited tone, pressing the palm of her hand to her chin.

Oh no! Here we go, "thank you Luna." Hermione didn't care explaining, she turned her gaze away from her.

"Did Ron give them to you?" Of course Luna insisted on the subject, her big bright eyes full of curiosity, she was an expert doing those strange uncomfortable things.

"No." Hermione answered pretending she wasn't worried, she had never hated her friend's strange ways but at that moment. Could she get the hint? one word answer -I don't want to talk about it-.

Luna looked at the flowers and then turned to look at Draco, realizing what was really going on.

"Those are beautiful flowers Malfoy."

He stepped down the porch, she seemed so short and left out if he stayed up there "Yes, they are. Granger has been great to me," he said.

Addressing Hermione, who had walked closer to them, Luna said, "I really thought they were from Ron, since he has been so horrible to you lately. It was the least he could have done, but maybe now, he's going to be angry again." Luna had noticed him getting red in the face with anger, talking to her friend harshly and then she had disappeared from the hall for a few meals in a row.

"You know he can be like that sometimes," said Hermione, a fake smile on her face. Hopefully, with the lack of light, her reddened face wouldn't be so obvious.

"You don't need to feel bad Hermione; it's not your fault he can be nasty like that," Luna told her and cocked her head to the left with an expression of compassion.

Now Hermione felt like crying, but biting back tears of anger and sadness, she asked her friend, "Hey Luna, were you looking for me?"

Draco was analyzing everything. He had started feeling a little sorry for Hermione. So Weasley, the immature brat, had been mean to her, had that happened because of them talking?

"Yes," Luna started. "We wanted to invite you to come over to our dorm for some board games. Would you like to come? Draco could come too if you like." She glanced quickly at the boy "We would have to move the game to another spot though; we are in the girls dormitory at the moment."

"I can't Luna, I am working on a paper, in fact I should really hurry back to continue." Hermione hoped that would work to get rid of both of them.

"Didn't I hear you say earlier today, at dinner, that you had finished everything already?" Luna got another shot at it. To her everything was better if people just blurt out the truth.

"Hey," interrupted Draco. He could see this was being torture for Hermione; her friend was putting her on the spot, embarrassing her… he needed to end it. "Sorry, I cannot make it to the game night either, I really have to go now." He turned to Hermione, "Then, I'll see you,"... -tomorrow- but he had caught Hermione widening her eyes with...fear? So he quickly changed it to "...around."

"Sure Draco, thanks for the flowers." She smiled with relief and he smiled back at her in response even though he was feeling a little ticked off. What was this? A secret friendship where you are ashamed to be seen walking together with your friend? But maybe, just maybe , the reason for all that was her boyfriend.

"Bye," said Luna, and after watching the boy walk to his room without any discretion, she turned to her friend, "are you sure you don't want to come?"

"No Luna, there are some things I want to do." Like pulling all the hair out of her head. This conversation had been horrendous. "but Luna…" she held her hand up to make her wait, she then turned discreetly to watch Draco disappear into his room, then she asked her, "can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course." She answered happily, friends help each other through favors, she loved being Hermione's friend.

"Could you not tell Ron about this, the flowers and Malfoy."

"Don't worry Hermione, is Malfoy in love with you?" Ask Luna. "I could feel certain energy coming from him."

Oh sweet Merlin! She was really the worst person that could have appeared at that moment. "No Luna." Laugh Hermione. "He is just thankful I have helped him with a couple of things, but Ron doesn't like him that much."

"I know, no worries, he won't hear a pip from me...but I wonder…" she had definitely felt some strange energy around them.

...

Once inside Hermione put the flowers on a tea pot with water. Went to her bed and slumped on it, and with her hands on her face let the tears and sobs start. She had felt so humiliated, forced to face the truth in front of an audience. Ron could be so cruel, even vindictive towards her; yet she had never seen him stand up for himself with the same conviction against any of his brothers , except for some muttering here and there. Almost never to Harry. In fact, she felt he liked kissing-up to Harry. Why couldn't he be as kind to her as he was to Harry? At times, she thought, he singled her out for harsh treatments. It was like if he resented or was embarrassed of her nerdy-ness, unless those nerdy ways benefited him; as when she helped him with homework and assignments; then she received the compliments otherwise totally absent. It was painful to want so bad to be loved. Sometimes it seemed like he just wanted her to cheer him up. To have her life revolve around him.

She longed to be appreciated as a woman, as a partner, but she felt she wasn't very -partner attracting material-. She might be somehow insecure in that respect.

The fact was, her qualities weren't of that sort. In the first place, she was brilliant, by far the best in her class. That could make some part of the boy population extremely insecure and another part disregarding. It left a very small minority of boys as a possibility.

In second place, she didn't like spending so much time in the pursuit of looking sexy or cute. In the past she just didn't care. Then in fourth year Ginny started giving her advice, and she learned what was needed to look attractive, but it just didn't concern her a lot. For some boys -sexy or cute- was the sole motivation to go after a girl; so, some boys didn't see her as a girl, but as a strange bookish alien form. Now she tried to keep herself just decently groomed, but almost never went out of her way for more extreme procedures.

In third place, she wasn't well versed in the flirting tools. In fact she didn't even know some girls are masters at them. She just assumed the lack of interest from boys was due to her not being attractive; she didn't know she was.

But she expected that her boyfriend would value her for her assets, which were not physical, because she didn't care about them. Why? Oh! Why? Why did she like him?

And Luna was right, Ron should have been the one giving her flowers, not Draco.


	9. He's Been a Little Mean

**9\. He's Been a Little Mean**

Next day, Monday, things were not much better. Ron was just waiting for the -one more day- Hermione had promised him; that was the way he remembered it. He could hardly contain himself. He was angry, jealous, exasperated and very, very curious. He supposed everything had to do with the Malfoy clan and law and justice. He couldn't wait to be delighted by extracting every little morsel of information from his girlfriend. After confirming how low the Malfoys had fallen, then, maybe, he'll be willing to give Draco a chance.

For the love of Merlin! Otherwise, he couldn't understand how Hermione could be willing to talk to the guy. He had called her names, he had hurt her, he had insulted his family, he had always attack them in every little opportunity he had gotten, and he had been linked to the people responsible for the death of one of his brothers and the maiming of the other two; so he blamed him as if he had been the one actually hurting his brothers.

Hermione on her part had been very busy, busy enough to not feel compelled to go look after her boyfriend. She had to make space to go request the archives for Sirius. She had to contrive a good reason to see them, do the appropriate paperwork, go to the corresponding offices and make copies. Finally, make sure to eat her dinner early enough to go wait some 30 minutes at the lakeside.

That didn't make it early enough to prevent her from witnessing Ron's arrival to the hall; he was laughing and chatting with no other than Lavender Brown. He sat beside Hermione, told her hello, but hardly acknowledged her afterwards. Then he made sure to put extra effort in engaging in conversation with the 7th year sitting in front of him and showing ample interest in her. It was his recently thought strategy for the day, to make her jealous too.

...

It was time to go wait for her meeting with Draco. Walking on the lakeside was so relaxing. Not only looking at nature but smelling, hearing, touching it. Being immersed in its energy. It was a balanced energy that could help you balance your own. And she needed that, Ron was being a total brat.

The days were in the process of getting colder and shorter. Today was especially windy and cold, but she did mind cold; she had dressed for that.

How she loved the wild unrestricted wind playing with her hair, filling up her lungs. She took a deep breath enjoying it with a satisfied, soft and almost imperceptible smile. It certainly had a different quality from the air that is constricted. It was fresh, and, in this place, scented with mellow smells of wood, leaves, wet soil, lake water.

The crackling sounds under her feet. Leaves and pebbles being squished, it was music on its own. But it was also accompanied by the sounds of little creatures, by the wind whistling and moving through the canopies. She looked up to the upper branches of the pines and caught the sight of a squirrel climbing up the trunk on one of them.

The beautiful view with all the different colors. The perennial green of the pines; the many shades of orange, yellow and brown on the leaves about to fall; the blue sky.

Some could have thought, this was a solitary activity that ought to make you feel lonely; but for the ones that had experienced it, spending time alone amidst nature was communion with the universe. She wrapped her arms around herself for a moment and remembered when she used to go to the woods for long walks with her parents.

After climbing the hill she arrived at her favorite place around the lake and sat down. There were a few big boulders that could be used to sit and even to lay down. From a couple of them you could watch the starry nights. There were others conveniently covered by the shade of a tree canopy. She closed her eyes, lifted her chin and inhaled deeply.

This beautiful spot wasn't directly beside the lake; it was higher up and you had to leave the main path to be able to reach it. From it you also had a lovely view, not only from the lake, but also from the vegetation, the very top of the astronomy tower and small parts of the main path way below; how she loved this place.

She hoped Draco would remember the fallen tree and its stump, where he had to leave the main path. She had forgotten to ask him. It had taken Ron a few times to recognize it. Maybe because he wasn't too fond of going there.

She had to think about her relationship with Ron, she might as well use this time. Really! Why had she started liking him? What was she supposed to think about this turmoil going on? Were they truly compatible?

Yes, she was angry at him. Not even her dad had ever raised his voice to her. Why did he think he could do it? Yes, he was short tempered, but that temper didn't really show that often when he had to confront his brothers or Harry. He was probably always outdone by them.

The youngest of the boys, born just after the two that acted as if they didn't need anyone else but his twin. Percy was the most similar to Ron's personality; he also seemed scared of the self assured attitudes of the rest. They seemed as if they were competing, trying to prove they were, also, comfortable in their skin; but they weren't. Certainly the experiences he had in his infancy had influenced him. In a way, he seemed sentenced to fight for his right to be noticed. Not to be invisible. That was all right, but she had to decide if that was compatible with who she was.

Sure, she felt tenderness towards him when she perceived his insecurities. She saw him as a small child and she just wanted to protect him. Now, she was confirming insecurities could rear a much uglier face.

Yes, he was insecure, even when he was terrific at something. He was so talented playing quidditch and he was still unable to trust himself in those circumstances. She had never resented him for being a wonderful player, to the contrary, she had helped him. Yet, it seemed that he wanted to receive the same recognition as her in their intellectual activities, even though, unlike him, she worked very hard in that area.

She was sure the Lavender Brown event hadn't been a coincidence. Surely he was trying to pay her with the same coin, but she didn't feel jealous; she felt angry that he was being so petty and vindictive.

She felt she had been his ally for a long long time. She had always tried to protect them, even if she risked it seeming like a nag. Why did he mistreat her then? Shouldn't he just correspond to her kind treatment? Or did he feel empowered by putting her down?

At some point in her life she realized she needed to stand up for herself. To push back. Well, okay, she could also be stubborn and temperamental, but at least she was willing to try. She was still learning, but she didn't like the bickering that resulted from all that back and forth with Ron.

She and Ron had always been sort of trying to teach each other a lesson.

After her relationship with Viktor she had insinuated to him that she liked him, and he had gone get himself involved with Lavender... to make her pay!? Why? Because she hadn't been willing to wait for a guy that, apparently, hadn't even noticed she was a girl with feelings? In the hope that he might, some day, fall in love with her? Did he think she should have ignored a perfectly nice boy to wait for someone who didn't even show some minimum interest? Was that his way of showing her he had feelings for her? Was he always going to react like that when he felt threatened?

She felt angry thinking about the bad stuff. So what were the good aspects?

Well, she liked his humor, when it was light hearted because it wasn't always like that. After they started being a thing, she felt he had relaxed and treated her more lovingly but not under stress.

One thing she also liked about him was his family. She liked them so much. Starting with Bill he was so smart, so confident, funny and okay, okay, also handsome. She had had a strong girl crush on him for the longest of times after she met him. But of course, on the occasions she had seen him, he had never shown any interest of that kind in her; she was just a young girl, a child. When the Vila appeared she knew there was no hope for her, and she knew she wasn't going to fight for him. In that area of life she just accepted painfully whatever it was; she didn't even know of the possibility of flirting with a boy to get his attention.

The rest of his brothers were just happy and easy going. All of them had been pretty decent to her; she appreciated that.

And Ginny had transformed into an outgoing, assertive young woman, but she was kind and fun too, plus one of her best friends. Perhaps, Ron was just a means to be part of that beautiful family she admired so much. Or maybe she hoped that someday he might transform into Bill.

Or, maybe it was also the fact that they had shared a lot of moments together, many stressful circumstances that probably brought them closer.

She was absorbed in her thoughts when she heard Draco coming. She turned to confirm. Yes, it was him, he was climbing the steep hillside to her favorite place. Apparently he had remembered where to leave the path.

"Hi Granger," he said, raising his hand briefly to accompany his greeting.

"Hi!" She greeted him back, a smile on her face, "you remembered where to leave the path!" She said with satisfaction.

"Well, yesss, I am not a doofus, you showed it to me last time,"

He walked around a rock on the ground .

"Sometimes it's just difficult to remember it." She told him while some memories came to her mind.

On his first few attempts Ron hadn't remembered. She recalled the first time he agreed to meet her there. How she was waiting and saw him walking away, far ahead on the path. She sent her patronus as fast as she could to fetch him, then she descended to meet him on the path. She wanted to show him, again, how to recognize the place where he had to start climbing, but he was too humiliated to pay attention. He was annoyed with her afterwards. Why did she like that bloody place? What was her obsession about going there?

"It is not that difficult, the tree stomp is easy to recognize." He mentioned with narrowed eyes dismissing the difficulty of the task. "Or maybe you should be happy I paid attention; unless you didn't want me to find you." He said grinning and then cleaning the surface where he was about to sit with a quick wordless spell.

"Then I would be the doofus waiting for you and not wanting you to find me." She said smiling. "How was everything with your parents?"

She watched him sit on the adjacent boulder. His Slytherin scarf wrapped in a single loop around his neck, those colors looked very nice on him, especially the green.

"Pretty nice actually; it helped a lot that I was able to sleep," he adjusted his wand in his back pocket and after that he put his hands under his thighs

"... I was able to have more patience with my father. I think his beliefs are stronger. It can feel unnerving, seeing how he's still just interested in proving and justifying himself right after everything that happened. It's especially so when I am tired."

"I see, and I am so happy to hear that you were able to sleep well," she looked at him and saw he actually seemed better, way less ill. It was amazing, what sleeping enough or not, could do to you. Once she had stayed up all night taking care of Harry and the next day she was not the same, everything hurt.

"Oh goodness! I slept like a toddler." He crossed his right leg on top of the left and adjusted his trainer, "I don't even remember the last time I was able to sleep so relaxed!" He suddenly turned his head to see her, "Wait, no, two of the times I have talked to you I have been able to sleep the whole night, but last Friday night was epic. Did you cast some kind of spell on me?" He said and looked at her mischievously, thinking she could have actually used some silent spell on him. One that he didn't know.

"Of course I did! It's called muggle magic." She beamed, "Wizards and witches know about it too, it is otherwise known as friendship... But seriously, I believe in the power of catharsis when you talk to a friend."

"I might start believing in that kind of magic too," he said laughing softly with her.

"Good!...Hey, I got you copies of Sirius' file," she said reaching for a folder she was partially sitting on, and slowly extending it to him.

"Wow. You are efficient. Thanks again," he commented looking at her briefly, then scanning through the papers. There were many pieces of paper in that folder at least 30 pages, probably containing the proof of everything Hermione had told him. Sirius had certainly been a curious brilliant character, like many others in his family... An unregistered animagus at that young age, that was just amazing.

After a moment of observing what he was doing, she slowly said, "no problem."

He stopped checking the pages abruptly, took a deep breath, closed the folder suddenly and turned to look at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked with confusion. It wasn't as if he had forced her to get them for him. She had volunteered to do it. Why would she have any issues with it?

"I don't know, but I have a hunch that some people might have been giving you -problems-." Luna had said it; he remembered, and Hermione had looked appalled. He was looking firmly at her. He Really wanted to know.

"Oh...yes...yes, you are right. I actually needed to talk to you about that. Yes indeed…Mmh. Look, Ron has been very upset about not knowing why we are spending time together, or what we talk about and I've been thinking about different possibilities." She looked for some sign of empathy in him.

"He hates me, right?" He was sure now that she hadn't wanted them to walk together to this place. He stood up and picked up a small stone. He put the folder on top of the boulder and the stone on top of it

"Well, I think he might still resent you a bit," she said observing what he was doing; he was picking up little stones from the ground. "And it's also really difficult for him not to know what's going on, why we are meeting, what we talk about."

"What would you like us to do Granger?" He felt upset, he didn't like Ron at all either and… maybe she wanted to stop having private conversations with him; so much for their friendship. Perhaps she was just about to tell him she couldn't meet him anymore. He started throwing stones at the lake, as far as he could, as a way to diffuse his mounting tension.

"Well...as I was telling you I've been considering different opinions and maybe for starters you could come to dinner with all of us, with my friends. So everyone could see how much of a better person you are, especially Ron."

He stopped his stone throwing to reflect, his eyes on the horizon, thankfully she was not thinking about dumping him. Then turned slightly to say, "Thank you, I don't know if it's true though, me being a better person" he huffed with scorn. "... and I don't know if your friends would be comfortable? I imagine they don't like me one bit either." He needed to cooperate, it was the right thing to do; It just wasn't easy. He, then, went back to his throwing. He was using all his strength to make them go as far as possible.

"I think I could talk to Harry first. We all look up to him, so if Harry is welcoming to you, everybody will follow suit." She said while looking at him, his clothes were so fancy and he had some certain confidence, the way he stood, so straight, the way he moved, he never seemed fidgety or indecisive. And then she wondered, how could he make the stones reach the lake? It wasn't that close.

Turning a little sideways again to address her he said, "that's the conundrum, right? I don't know if Potter will be inclined to act welcoming towards me either."

He stopped throwing, like each time he needed to talk, to look at her or to reflect, and reassume it immediately after. Throwing the stones with all the strength of the emotions he was generating. Of course, he imagined, people didn't like him, but he had a hunch the Weasley guy really loathe him.

"I think that won't be any problem, Harry is like my brother. He trusts me, he really does, and if I ask him, he'll be okay; I know it."

Of course he would, that was the kind of relationship she had with Harry. They had been through so much and many times they had to trust each other's good judgment.

"Also… I am not sure I want all my issues to be topics of conversation."

"No worries." Said Hermione, she had bent her legs up and was wrapping them with her arms. "I had actually thought about it. I can just tell him how much you have changed your opinions; that I would like Ron to finally relax about you, by having you come and spend time with us; that you might want to re-establish a relationship with your aunt and baby Teddy; and that we have been checking the possibility."

He was picking up more stones. He looked up at her with a -what the heck- face. He abandoned the task, stood up, put his hands in his pockets and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Checking the possibility of re-establish a relationship?" He hadn't mentioned anything about his intentions of meeting the little boy.

"Well you said you thought about your family." She let go of her legs and lowered them to the rock; for a second she was concerned he didn't like her idea, but she continued because she thought it was a good one.

"And I think you could actually meet the family you have left. Harry would be the perfect conduit. Don't you think that would be great? Getting to meet Teddy," Hermione said, with a tender expression thinking of the baby. "Plus, it is something real, you are changing, I imagine you want to meet the family you have left and I'm helping."

"I guess. You are ahead of everything, aren't you Granger?" He smiled, he was done with his distraction and was still standing facing her with his hands in his pockets. Yes, meeting the baby was exactly what had started everything. How had she guessed? "Could you make sure Potter is okay with that before we even try to shove me into your friends' lives."

"Absolutely, I'll talk to him tomorrow at some point. Maybe on Wednesday we could meet again?"

"Wednesday is good, but do we still have to come all the way here to talk? I mean, it'll be so much easier to just knock at your door. And less f-ing cold," he said pointing at the sky that had turned gray already and shaking his head, trying to show how obvious his point was.

"Yes, I understand, I think soon Ron will be okay with that, but for now, could you meet me here again?"

"I guess so." Draco felt upset again at the mention of her boyfriend. He tossed the stone, picked up the folder and sat down slowly. He could feel some part of him refusing to be subdued by someone who may want to hurt him. He wasn't going to let some son of a gun kick him while down. He was not that kind of agreeable, and he could feel the fight inside of him starting to form. He could try to recognize his faults with her because she was also willing to understand, but he could not allow somebody like Weasley, that didn't have a clue about his life, just berate him. "I don't like your boyfriend either, you know."

"Oh... that's uncomfortable, but why don't you like him dad?

"Very funny Granger." He smirked.

He was thinking hard. Where was this emotion coming from? Was it a shortcoming or a virtue? Was it just a rebellious bratty attitude, or a justifiable intent to defend one's dignity? So he continued, "Maybe it's just the spoiled child in me that doesn't want another brat to mess with him, or, I don't know, maybe I just feel Weasley shouldn't assume he has the right to tell you what to do. He doesn't own you."

"I know." She said, pursing her lips afterwards.

"Yesterday you looked upset. Has he hurt you because of this?" Who did he think he -himself- was? He had tried to hurt her in the past too.

"Well...he… he's been a little mean lately." Hermione's voice broke a little, she lowered her head, this was painful, by rubbing her forehead with her fingertips she covered her face so that her tears that wanted to form in her eyes couldn't be seen so clearly. Then wiping her eyes and with an expression of impotence she continued, "I don't know what to do. It's been just a few months and I am already doubting we should be together."

He reached with his hand to touch her back for a moment, a little concerned she might not like him touching her after their interactions of the past. But his mother had cried a lot during the last year, so he had to learn how to react to a female crying. "Everything is going to be okay Granger. You are very smart, but let me tell you, I remember I used to treat you badly." He did, but he had his justification ready, "but at least I WAS your enemy, while I hurt you, not your friend or worse...your boyfriend. A boyfriend should make an effort."

"Yes... and I am torn; I want to be patient with him but I feel I can't stop living my life." More tears in her eyes, more wiping.

"That might be very important Granger... that you continue being yourself, I mean," he quickly clarified. And as for his part, he was also afraid of her abandoning him because of the demands of her boyfriend. He wasn't the kind that just doesn't fight for what he wanted. He needed her. She was the person that had helped him out of his loneliness and despair. She had given him back the ability to sleep. "If he needs you to be someone you don't want to be, you will lose yourself if you cave in." He was looking intently at her. What was this he was feeling now? Perhaps things now were heavy enough to fall down due to their own weight; empathy, that was the feeling.

He continued, "I know a sad story that probably started the way you're feeling now. My mother is a very smart woman. I don't think she would have followed the crowd of doom on her own, but she always obeyed what my father said as if it was law. She let him dictate her life for her and look what that got her. Two years of jail, and pain, so much pain, the last two years were hell. You are very smart, Granger, pay attention and do the right thing."

Her tears had stopped and she had been listening attentively, amazed, her mouth slightly opened. Draco Malfoy was comforting her! "Thank you Draco."

"No, thank you. Talk to Potter, and we can meet here again this Wednesday; at the same time, right?"

"Yep."

"Do you mind walking back with me? It's getting dark, I might get scared," he said with a smirk.

"I don't mind it at all, I enjoy being with my friends."

"Same here."

So they walked back minding their steps in the sunset and making light out of life.


	10. Harry's Advice

**10\. Harry's Advice**

Hermione decided the best way to talk to Harry was to slip him a note during one of the classes they took together, telling him to meet her before dinner, at 4:30; she needed to talk to him.

A faithful friend he was; he knew this was coming. His two friends were arguing heatedly or at least fiercely disagreeing and apparently they wanted his help. He was there punctually. He didn't care to hear about their issues, but what else could he do; friends are there for each other. He loved them both. For him they both were so special. Okay maybe Hermione was exceptional, but she could be boring, she wanted to be around books all the time. Since he really appreciated a good laugh, Ron was the right man for that; he enjoyed his kind of humor.

He was sitting right there, on the spot she had indicated, where the corridor, near the stairs to the dungeons, leads to the outside yard. They were going to be in Slytherin territory. Harry didn't know it, but Hermione was hoping some Slytherins might see them talking, and then understand she could talk in private to whomever she wanted.

He heard her quick footsteps and knew it was her, coming to meet him.

"Hi Harry," she said with a warm smile, happy to see her dear friend. "Thank you for coming. I really need to talk to you." And, after preventing him from standing up by holding his shoulder, she sat beside him.

"Of course Hermione. I was sort of thinking this was going to happen." Harry said uncomfortable but resigned to hear her version of the story, of the story he really didn't want to hear anything about. By rubbing the tip of his fingers on his forehead he tried to relax or at least distract himself from the weird emotions he was feeling.

"Then you may imagine why I wanted to talk to you." Hermione said while fully buttoning her jacket; she felt cold after having been in her room.

"Ron and Malfoy?" He asked, raising his eyebrows inquisitively and looking sideways at her.

"Yes... well...here we go..." and after a big sigh she started," Professor McGonagall asked me, at the beginning of the term, to keep an eye on Draco. She was worried. You know, he practically lost his whole family and his friends. Plus all the jail business."

She was also told about how he had been drinking but she wasn't going to let anybody know that; the information had been given to her confidentially. The other things Harry already knew.

"I have talked to him and he seems really changed," Hermione continued.

She wished she could tell Harry how bad Draco's despair seemed, how she was afraid he could continue drinking because it seemed he was suffering, yet it was not possible.

"Somehow he seems to trust me, but, as you have seen, Ron really disapproves, yet, Draco feels uncomfortable with me confiding in Ron. He might not be ready to let anybody else know the things he has shared with me; It is a vicious cycle, but he told me it was okay with him if I talk to you about a few issues; so I wanted to ask you to please help me with a couple of things."

Harry was silent for a moment, his eyes unfocused, then he turned a little in her direction and swallowed before starting, "Hermione, you know I want to support you in any way I can, but I have to admit, I've been a bit worried too. It is kind of strange to know you are wandering around with Malfoy. Malfoy was a jerk to us for such a long time. I mean, I know I was alright with rescuing him from the room of requirement etc.; but that's different from cozying up to him like a new best friend. Don't you remember how nasty he was?"

Harry knew Draco had followed Voldemort out of fear for the integrity of his family and without total conviction, he had seen his distress, but anyway, he had been really awful for a long time.

"You can't imagine that he didn't believe at least some of the things he said, and that started way before Voldemort was back in the picture. I don't think a Basilisk can change it's spots that easily. What did he ever say to make you believe he could?"

"It wasn't one single thing, it's been everything," she reflected. "I know this is all strange. It all started out of a weird, weird coincidence, but, as a consequence, he opened up to me. He has had it hard lately. He is stuck with some problems; you can imagine, his parents, jail, the last two years with Voldemort around. I sort of have seen how many scars he ended up with."

She imagined how painful it must be having to recognize your own mistakes to everyone, especially if you suspect they are not going to empathize. Again she wished she could tell everything to her dear friend, then it would be easier for him to understand and give her advice, but she couldn't so she needed to be careful with the things she told him. "Maybe later, one day, he could be the one telling you everything, but as of this moment he doesn't feel that comfortable with me sharing anything of his. I want to help Harry, everybody can benefit from more good in this world."

"And I have really seen him act differently... I mean, we can start with the fact that he has been talking to me! I remember Professor Dumbledore always believed in people Harry. He even gave Snape a second chance, and thank goodness for that, but, back then, Snape was in a similar circumstance than Draco, I think. He tried to show us how it was good to believe in people, in giving them a second opportunity."

Harry remembered how Professor Dumbledore tried to protect Malfoy to the last moments in his life, how he wanted to save him. How he had been willing to shorten his already extinguishing life in order to protect them all, but at that moment especially Draco.

"Ok Hermione, I can sort of understand where you are coming from. And I know you have very good judgment —usually," Harry said smirking. Then coughing, "Lockhart"

She hit him. "That's not fair, I was 13."

"Yes, that's true," Harry said smiling sweetly. "So, let's see, what is that you need from me?"

"A couple of things. First about Ron. He's been so angry. He thinks I shouldn't be helping Draco because, again, he was who he was; but, I think Ron wouldn't even mind it if you were the one talking to him. I feel he just wants to control me because he is, maybe, jealous and people are bothering him; but I want to do this Harry. This is something good. I just don't think I should cave in on it. I really would appreciate your advice on this."

She hoped Harry would agree with her. She had reflected and came to see reason in what Draco had told her. What would happen if she set the precedent that she could be prevented from doing the things she had the conviction to do? What would happen in the future when Ron could be uncomfortable with more important decisions of hers?

"I think you have a wonderful heart Hermione," Harry started drawing a big breath. He could see how this situation was complicated. "I don't know if Malfoy could feel as comfortable with anybody else as he apparently feels with you. Those things can't be forced. I mean, he is still avoiding people in general."

He imagined himself trying to artificially make Draco feel comfortable with him, I felt almost impossible. He had once found him crying in the bathroom and as a consequence they tried to hex each other, he ended up almost killing him.

"So, if you still want to be the one that he confides on, I think you should do it. Ron may still get angry and jealous for a while though, and, for that, it would help if he knew what's going on; but he definitely needs to learn to respect your decisions and trust you."

He thought about how he had been determined to risk their lives to save Draco and his friend during the fire in the room of requirements. Why risk everything, if he believed there was no possibility of redemption? He did believe in the possibility of redemption; he had witnessed it first hand through Professor Snape. "And, I think you are right, you are not doing anything wrong; we should just give him another opportunity. You are being the best disciple of Professor Dumbledore's second chance teachings." And he bumped her lightly, playfully, sideways with his shoulder.

"I knew I could count on you." Hermione smiled broadly and reached to squeeze his hand tenderly, "So, to help matters with Ron, and also to help Draco go back to a normal life; I was thinking about asking him to come have dinner with us, but I wanted to make sure you could help us. You know, If you welcome him, everybody will do the same." The two were sort of the representation of the two sides. "If people see you being okay with Draco after everything, they will have no reason to reject him. Could you help me by acting friendly towards him?" She asked, turning to look at her dear friend with pleading eyes.

"Of course! That is such a great idea. That ought to make the Slytherin table finally shut up." There was the light of hope in Harry's face and he straightened his body. He was tired of the fun the Slytherins were having at his friend's expense. When Ron was distressed he wasn't as enjoyable to be around; he was more like a pain in the... "you just have him come join us whenever you want, and I'll know what to do. Heck! I could even ask Ginny to be friendly too."

"That might be good, but don't tell her anything yet, I'll ask him."

"Okay, I'll wait."

She also told her friend about helping Draco establish a relationship with his aunt Andromeda and Teddy. For that she could really use his help too. He was the natural bridge to them, as Teddy's godfather he visited often, usually one Sunday each month. He said he would definitely be okay with that.

"Would you like me to start contacting Andromeda and telling her about it?" Asked Harry.

"No yet, let me check with him. I think he is concerned everybody will reject him because of what he was. And I think he really needs to decide how he wants to approach it. After all, there is truly a risk of Andromeda rejecting him. Or at least of being a rocky road towards reconciliation."

"Sounds good…"

Hermione stood up to let him know they could go to dinner now.

"... just one more thing Hermione." Said Harry after biting his lip with distress. "Please be careful... this is the guy who broke my nose by stomping on my face."

...

Later, at dinner, Ron tried a new strategy; he was going to show those stupid Slytherins that Hermione was his. That day he waited for her, and when they entered the hall and the dimwits began their fun he just grabbed Hermione and kissed her in front of the Slytherin table. The Slytherins then started making gagging sounds. Hermione felt humiliated. She started pushing Ron away, his fake, -in your face- passion was not at all appreciated. Especially after all the lack of understanding on his part, and all the hard time he was giving her. He was all over her, making her feel like an object, disregarding her fighting him. He was clearly using her as a tool to get the outcome he wanted. When she was finally able to push him off, she was furious.

She hit his chest with her hand rolled into a fist.

"Don't you ever do that again Ronald Weasley," she snarled and turned to start walking to their table. What was he thinking? But again he wasn't the brightest cookie around. Some people heard her and one said loudly, "ooh! someone is in trouble." Others joined, "ooh."

"Why not? You are my girlfriend." He said following her, anger in his face. If she was his girlfriend , he assumed she should be willing to show him affection however and whenever he needed it. Damn it, his plan hadn't worked. The imbeciles were still laughing at him.

"That doesn't mean you can do whatever you want with me." She snapped at him, and even her stride looked somewhere between disconcerted and furious. Couldn't he understand being a couple doesn't mean she should surrender her will to him? Now it was clearer for her.

"I think kissing might be in the agreement, don't you?" He was walking by her side now and sent her an angry stare.

"No." She stopped, they had arrived at their table but she didn't move to sit, she stood there facing him with her right hand on her waist "Not forcing me to do it when I don't feel like it. I don't appreciate being a spectacle; even if you might have enjoyed your previous experience on that."

"This is stupid Hermione." He was furious again. She wasn't helping his plan. She wasn't on his side. She was making him look ridiculous and rejected in front of everybody, and making his brilliant plan fail.

"You can call it whatever you want, but don't you ever try that again." She told him their eyes were firmly on each other, they were both fuming, breathing laboriously with their anger.

"Okay, let's go outside" he grabbed her arm, and they walked out. He was so angry. His grip could tell her so. Why didn't she side with him? Why wasn't she protecting him? Didn't she see he was being bullied? The thought didn't occur to Ron that she was in the same circumstance as him, yet he wasn't doing anything for her; but his exasperation told him she had some explaining to do.

Once they were outside he started,"I gave you time, so, now, start explaining. What have you been doing with him?" His pale face was flushed, his fists on his hips.

"Well, we have a problem because I can't tell you; Draco doesn't feel he trusts you enough yet." Hermione told him firmly. She was mirroring his stance with one hand on her hip and was exasperated too. Ron was creating a storm out of nothing, and he wasn't completely manhandling her, but he was getting closer to it.

"Is it 'Draco' now?" He asked grimacing, his head cocked to the side. "So, you two are becoming some sort of BFFs, and he doesn't give you permission to talk to your own boyfriend?"

That was madness he thought, how could these all be happening? What did he need to do for her to understand his point? So he bitterly continued his strategy of forcing her into reason, "you are mental Hermione, but you promised you were going to tell me what was going on after you talked to him." He said while grabbing her chin and forcing her head to face him again. "SO? I don't care if the troll is not comfortable; I am waiting for you to make good on your word."

She shook her head in disapproval , she had always hated it when people were called names. But she decided she was going to try to keep things calm despite her exasperation. She took two deep breaths looking away from him and continued, trying to muster all the patience she had, still, she sounded serious, "I am sorry Ron, some things take time, and can't be so easily scheduled. You are definitely not helping matters by being this distrustful and resentful. We all can see how much you dislike him… and then you want him to be open to you. So no, I cannot tell you today either."

He rolled his head and lifted both hands in frustration "I don't want anything from him. It is you the one that needs to explain," he said pointing a finger at her .

"Okay, let me see what I could tell you." She could perceive how she was trying to communicate with him but he was solely interested in what he wanted. She thought she needed to tell him something, to help him calm down; so she said, "since I was little I've been taught to help anybody who might need me, if it is in my hands. He has been trying to change his ways, so, he appreciates my support in this process."

Ron narrowed his eyes in disbelief and asked her, "Why would you believe anything he says? Like this pretend change."

"Because I've seen it he is trying," she added, frustration in her voice and face, couldn't he understand that the simple fact that Draco was willing to talk to her was proof of that change?. "And you should trust my judgment, because I am going to continue helping."

"On what? What could you possibly give him that he could not get from somebody else?" He looked like a small child throwing a temper tantrum, out of control.

"You know Ron, we can't choose all our tasks; sometimes they choose us, and for some strange reason, unlike you, he really thinks I am a person he can rely on, even if you don't believe I am trustworthy."

"Oh, don't use that offended attitude on me." Said Ron snapping his head to one side, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in anger. "You know you are a very special human, but he doesn't even deserve to be around you; much less to be helped by you. And what could he possibly want? Why don't he gets one of his stupid Slytherin friends to help him?" He was crossed, his girlfriend was investing so much into helping the git and was afraid his girl could be even seduced by him. He couldn't understand why she didn't get all the brilliantly constructed reasoning he was managing and see the danger. He crossed his arms on top of his chest.

"Again, first of all, how can you say I am special and then don't trust me. Second, I decided long ago I was not going to dwell on resentment, so, yes, I forgave him, and I would like to be his friend, and help him as much as I can."

"Bloody hell Hermione," he bawled and threw his hands up. "His friend?!" He was losing his head. "Why do you have to make things so complicated? When are you going to be satisfied with what you have and stop getting yourself in trouble? When is it going to be enough? You are so MENTAL and DELUSIONAL, and, knowing him, maybe the only thing he wants is getting into your pants."

She slapped him hard and ran to her room. Another day without food.


	11. Don't Want to Stop Just Yet

**11\. Don't Want to Stop Just Yet**

On Wednesday morning Ron apologized, and she told him everything will be forgotten if he tried harder to be kind, so, first he had to show her a change in attitude, then everything could go back to normal and not the other way around.

He had done it again, maybe he needed a firmer hand. But Ron felt frustrated, he had apologized, hadn't he? Even though that was not him, he didn't like apologizing, that was what he always did with her, just let her bad moods fade, then why couldn't she understand he was going the extra mile? She was certainly being a harpy.

In the evening she was running late. It was 6:10, and she knew Draco was probably on his way to his room, then she had to run for it. Better not to risk being seen together or very suspiciously close, walking towards the solitude of the surroundings of the lake. The whole of the Slytherin house was now in on the joke. There was no possibility of entering the hall without having someone catcalling after her or laughing at Ron, and him going nuts.

When she was on her way, she saw a group of Slytherins hanging out near the astronomy tower; that was strange, and it wasn't completely a surprise when they started the raucous. She could hear some of them clearly calling:

"Bye lovey dovey. Your date is waiting for you."

"Leave the chump and keep the royalty girl."

"You have refined your taste lately girly."

"Who could have thought you could manage two boyfriends."

"Maybe you can fit me in too."

They were laughing. It was so entertaining for them, coming up with new phrases to tease them. Like they were cheering for their favorite sports team.

Damn it. Were they spying on me? She thought.

She actually started running, full of anxiety, more problems with Ron. Were they going to wait and see Draco coming too? Maybe she should just go back, but then she might run into Draco, as to confirm clearly, in front of them, that they were meeting there. Whatever... this was going to end soon, and she wasn't that happy with Ron. She continued running a little longer, until she couldn't anymore.

She got to the fallen tree, left the path and started climbing. She was sweating and a little out of breath.

There was somebody already there. Was he another of the taunting boys?

"Draco?" Anxiously hoping it was him Hermione called.

He had been there for some time already. Laying down on one of the rocks, trying to relax, one leg bent up, hands on the back of his head. He heard her calling him, he propped himself up on his elbows and saw her. "Hey, you're late Granger."

"You gave me a fright, what are you doing here this early?" She asked slowly, trying to catch her breath while still walking and looking for a tissue in her pockets so she could clean the sweat from her face.

"I didn't have an hour long lesson today, Professor Sprout wasn't feeling well." He completely sat up and was observing her. "Since we finished early I decided I could always do something pleasurable, like coming here and enjoying nature and good company…" he noticed her red face and her agitated breathing. "Why are you so out of breath? Were you running?"

"Yes," she said breathing deeply and sitting next to him, to his right, she had found the tissue and was cleaning her forehead. "I don't know why, but those Slytherins made me nervous. Did you see them?" She looked at him inquisitively, unzipped her coat, removed her arms from it and let it sit on her shoulders; there were new beads of sweat on her forehead and she needed to cool down.

"No idea what you are talking about," Draco told her, shrugging his shoulders, he hadn't seen anybody on his way there; he didn't notice some curious boys following him from afar.

"There was a group of Slytherin boys on the way here." She was putting the tissue in one of her pants pockets, where sometimes she forgot them before washing them at home, after all, at school, after a certain age, everything could be just cleaned by magic. "And I don't know if you have noticed, but a whole bunch of kids of that house have made it a hobby out of taunting me and Ron." She turned to him as to be able to see his reaction.

"Really? Again, I had no idea. What did you do to provoke them?" He said narrowing his eyes looking sideways at her. Probably not much, he thought, the rivalry between the two houses was a long standing one.

"Apparently just coming here. Some of them might have seen us, and they enjoy making Ron angry by insinuating there's something going on between you and me, some kind of romance." How couldn't he have noticed or at least heard about it? He was certainly disconnected from school life.

"That sounds like so much fun; I'd love to see Weasley's face." He was laughing. He imagined Ron's face flushed red with anger, as he had seen him many times. "Besides, who could blame them? Don't you think? It's me you are hanging out with." He felt a strange jolt of needles in his chest when a quick involuntary image of the two of them, involved in the activities of a clandestine relationship, formed inside his mind.

"That's making my life so much more difficult Draco,"

"What could I do Granger? I hardly talk to any of them." He had gotten the point; she wasn't happy about it. So he spoke in a matter of fact tone, but for all he cared they could continue making Weasley's life miserable.

"I know what you can do. You can go with me to have dinner in the hall and hang out with my friends."

"Did you talk to Potter?" He didn't know what he would prefer as a response. If Harry was willing to cooperate it meant he would have to go and face her boyfriend, if not that meant he was really hated. He stood up and put his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. Again, he was feeling excess energy, like something was bugging him from inside his chest.

"I did, and he said he's okay with helping. I told you, he's a great guy, and when the Slytherins see you with us all, and you and Ron being okay, they'll know we are just friends. Then they will stop bugging us and Ron will be happy, and I'll be happy when he stops doing those crazy things he's been trying."

"What has your crazy boyfriend been doing?" The spoiled brat, he thought. He hoped someday soon, she would realize he was too much of a cry baby to be her boyfriend.

She felt embarrassed and upset just remembering. "Oh... he's been so stupid. He's been trying to make me jealous by ignoring me and making eager conversations with other girls, and yesterday he forcefully kissed me, in a very obnoxious way, in front of the Slytherin table...so dumb. But everything is going to get better after you join us for dinner; Ron is a jealous guy, and the taunting makes him go totally bonkers."

"If that's what you would like me to do." He was serious now. All of a sudden he felt upset. Why would he have to go out of his way to please the guy? It seemed that her intentions were focused on her dumb boyfriend now. He turned to face the water, thinking.

Hermione perceived his change of attitude and supposed Draco was nervous about their plan. So she said, "you don't know how happy this makes me. Harry is going to help us, and you're finally going to be able to hang out with my friends too. And we all could be your friends, and be there for you, and Ron will be happy."

He turned his head to look at her quickly then turned again to see the water. Something about how fairy-tale-like all of that sounded didn't sit well with him. Or maybe it was because he felt envious or jealous... he wished he had someone who wanted to meet his emotional needs too, just like Weasley had. He started to sit back down.

"Okay," he didn't sound happy. Then he was silent while she watched him. So now he was going to be used to make the stupid brat happy and stop him from throwing more tantrums. He lay down, hands behind his head, closed his eyes and bent one leg up.

Something was going on; he seemed unsettled, Hermione thought frowning. "Are you Okay Draco?"

He opened his eyes and waited a bit. "I don't know." Then he sat up again. "I feel upset. Let me think for a few minutes because I don't know exactly what's happening in my head."

"Sure I'll wait, or if you want you can sleep on it," she said, starting to put her coat back on.

"No, just give me a few minutes." After she nodded he lay down again.

Hermione did the same after zipping up her coat, she lay down and closed her eyes.

This place was so peaceful. Sometimes human interaction could get tiring for her. She had been stressed, especially with Ron trying to control her and being angry all the time, but this was heaven. Listening to the sounds of nature. Felling the fresh air filling her lungs. She followed her breath for some time. It was so relaxing. After some time she started to let go of all her worries. Softening all the tension in her muscles. All the thoughts in her mind started to vanish... nothingness... no gripping… and everything started fading away...dark... muffled...soft yet heavy… and she fell asleep.

Draco was conflicted; he knew there were not very nice reasons behind what he was feeling. Yes, he hated Weasley. He perceived him as a brat too, and we greatly dislike in others what we don't appreciate in ourselves.

He didn't want to give Weasley the pleasure of seeing him defeated. He was probably still a proud jerk himself, and he was jealous too. He had grown to enjoy Hermione's presence more and more each time, and being conscious now that she was sharing more intense intimate moments with Weasley was felt as very irritating, almost infuriating .

What had she seen in Weasley anyway? Weasley was a nervous wreck, and he wasn't a kind nervous wreck. Unlike Neville, who was insecure too, he wasn't particularly gentle with someone else's shortcomings. If it had been Harry Potter everything would be clear.

Harry was exceptional too, just like her, and could deal with difficulties and setbacks and still keep his self esteem, he admitted grudgingly. But Weasley! What was Weasley going to do trailing behind someone like Hermione Granger? Trying to control her and restrict her every move, in order to keep his self respect? It was a recipe for disaster. The day he found out they were together, he thought maybe Weasley didn't mind always being mediocre compared to Hermione, but now he could see it wasn't like that; it seemed that he felt threatened by her brilliance, her actions and decisions.

Anyway, she was taken. Did he have any possibility other than being her goodwill project for a short period of time? No, no possibility at all; that couldn't be. He knew that at some point, this, what he had with her, couldn't grow or even stay as it was for much longer; it was always going to be constricted by the existence of her boyfriend.

It was a shame because she was such a gentle soul. When he was with her he felt he could be a better person. There was peace around her, and peace was the most wonderful place after two years of pandemonium he had lived through. Was this really going to be over? The possibility of sharing time in private with her, sharing their personal thoughts. He had felt as if a balm was applied to his soul every time she showed empathy towards him; it soothed him, and the insane demon of his past faded away in her presence.

But he was afraid to recognize he was being a selfish jealous brat too. He wanted to make sure he wouldn't scare her off. Better yet, he wanted to win her favor, to be her favorite endeavor, even before her own boyfriend. That was the reality of what he was feeling, but how to make it happen. Maybe careful honestly was the best course of action. Maybe he could try to explain he was afraid of losing her friendship because of Weasley.

He opened his eyes, propped himself up on his right elbow while turning to look at Hermione, ready to explain. But there was something strange. Her features looked different. So soft, relaxed, abandon. Her breathing seemed deep and slow, and she didn't seem to notice he had moved.

_Is she asleep? She must be._

He moved once more. Sitting up, bending his right leg down to the side, turning to face her. Just making soft, slow sounds, big enough to catch her attention if she was awake; small enough to not scare her dreams away if she was asleep.

_She is asleep. Wow... she must feel comfortable around me; being able to relax enough in my presence to fall asleep_. He knew how difficult it's sometimes to fall asleep if you don't feel at ease.

What now? He thought. Should he wake her up? Maybe. They had time constraints. She needed to go back at some point before her rounds. More importantly, he was afraid she wouldn't want to be caught coming out of there with him a while after night had fallen; their conversation then would have to be shortened. Definitely wake her up.

But not just yet. He was looking at her. She was laying down on her back, her arms folded with her hands on top of her stomach. Her legs bent, knees together and her feet on the rock, a couple of inches apart. She had folded the hood on her long coat to cushion her head with the few layers of it she had managed.

Her hands had a different quality than his; they were smaller and thinner, with slender delicate fingers; the skin looked so soft, smooth, girl hands. The hands that, connected to her incredible brain, created impressive works. He had never touched them, and he wondered how velvety and warm they might feel like skin with skin. He moved his gaze slowly to her face. Passing through her chest which was going up and down slowly, deeply, peacefully. She was now the epitome of peace to him, she was a synonym of warmth in his chest, of patience and empathy. Then her face, soft skin again, her closed eyes with beautiful curly brown lashes , her nose, her mouth...her rosy lips, he lingered there. She looked...angelic, pure. He felt captivated or perhaps just curious. No, not curious, he just didn't want to stop staring, not out of curiosity; he liked what he was seeing.

He had never had the opportunity to really look at her this close and this extensively. Sure he had seen her and been amazed, just as the rest of the school, when she appeared on Krum's arm during the Yule ball. But he had managed to erase the memory and curiosity from the front of his mind.

But this…

He continued looking at her lips, they looked so inviting and he felt a strong impulse to bend over and kiss her, and for a moment he nursed the emotion; feeling how it was growing in his whole body. His stomach was filled with butterflies. Electric currents going through his arms and legs. His chest was in pain with yearning. His lips almost pulsating imagining the sensation. It would be so easy to just bend over and place a kiss on her lips.

He closed his eyes feeling weak with emotion.

He knew what kissing felt like, and, no wonder why, he loved it. How it made him feel, lost in the touch of a girl, where time stops and you could, if the stars are aligned, slide a wonderful path of pleasure. He missed the glorious experience. He had heard that boys don't need big triggers for their bodies to react, so maybe that was that, just a physical response to his hormone soaked body. Maybe it had been the Slytherins' idea, of the two being together, what had started this emotion.

And this was so annoying. There was no chance for something physical to happen there, and, for a moment, he wished he could go back to simpler times. To that period in his life, when he could be around a gorgeous girl, for long stretches of time, and not get any of these impulses. And he had started thinking Granger was gorgeous. Her sweet loving disposition. Her wisdom and good judgment. Her capacity for hard work. Her femininity. Her delicate features. The sound of her voice and laughter. Her caring for him...

That last thought had made it. Okay, don't be creepy; she's asleep; she trusts you; she's always nice to you. So, against the demands of his body, he cut his imaginings.

But he needed to take something of hers for his mind, so he reached out with his hand and touched her face tenderly.

"Hey Granger," he said softly.

She woke up very groggy and felt his warm hand on her face; it was totally unexpected, his hand was so gently touching her cheek. He removed it, letting his fingers trail her skin in a disguise caress. She felt involuntary shivers travel down her body.

"You fell asleep," he said smiling softly. "Am I that boring?"

She had been looking intently at his grey eyes. After the question she promptly sat up and shook her head vigorously, trying to get rid of the last vestiges of drowsiness. "I am so sorry, this won't happen again; I am just tired." She rubbed her eyes. Lately she had been sleeping less hours. After spending so much time with him or doing something related to him, she had needed to catch up on her school work at ungodly hours at night.

"No, I was just joking. That was the most wonderful proof that you are comfortable around me." He was still in a sort of enchanted state. Looking at her and feeling bewitched. Unable to stop starting; she felt like a magnet to his eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be?" She said stretching her arms. "I believe we both feel comfortable with each other, don't you?"

"You have no idea." He said scanning her face with a heavy feeling of need still lingering inside his chest. "You are the one person, at the moment, I would trust with anything, but you are you,"

He knew she was famous for her compassion and wisdom. He didn't believe it in the past. Blaise Zabini told him about how nice she was. He got to meet her better during Professor Slughorn's parties and, according to his friend, they had laughed together but, apparently, Cormac had been jealous and hadn't allowed them to get really cozy.

"Merlin pants! Zabini told me you were nice, but I didn't want to conceive of the possibility; I disregarded it. I even felt angry at him for saying that. Then you used all your magic on me, and I can't help but recognize it's always been true. But ME? Who the heck am I? I am just a pathetic excuse for a human being." He said, realizing sadly who he probably was to her. She had witnessed first hand many mistakes he had made.

"But Draco, you are not the same; this crazy war has changed us all." Pain can change us, she knew, she wanted to reach for his hand and comfort him but thought better of it. "And you're changing for the better." She adjusted her body in the rock to face him and leaned on her arm.

"How could that even be?" He sniggered with irony. "The core of what I was is shaken, lost. I really liked being respected. I think people were afraid to mess with me, and now I am not so sure that could be possible anymore. I don't like this uncertainty, the humiliation, the poverty. Hell no, I don't like wanting something and thinking I won't be able to get it. Not just things. Damn it, girls came easily. I barely needed to do anything to go out with a girl; now, not even Pansy remembers I exist."

He had tried to contact his previous girlfriends and girls that were friends, they didn't respond to his correspondence, not even Pansy; he was like an untouchable. Many parents were afraid of her daughters even talking to him. His family had been shamed, and the high society he and his family used to be friends with thought they were now dispossessed, or at least very close to it. Before, he was rich, a powerful bachelor every girl in high society wanted to date; now he was no longer a catch in the eyes of those rich families.

She was looking directly at him, even though he didn't make too much eye contact, "That is the best part Draco. This mayhem of hell might be the very best thing that could have ever happened to you. The money, the prestige, that was what you thought you were, but nobody's real self is made out of possessions... And girls that have forgotten about you don't know how much of a better person you are becoming. They probably were not the kind that care about people, but about -prestige-. I'm sure you will find many girls that could love you for who you are now, better yet, what you'll choose to be, what you might build for yourself."

"I don't know," he said, starting to sound down and lowering his gaze he pulled his wand out of his pocket and played a little with it. He felt, again, how his world had shattered in a million pieces, leaving him hanging from a thread. He moved his body slightly so he could be facing in the direction of the lake, crossed his legs, and started shooting some blue sparks at a stone on the ground, pushing it a little each time.

She looked at him with compassion, she saw him moving, probably to avoid her eyes. He seemed healthy now, he was probably eating and sleeping better. Then she added , "Really Draco! now you can build something that is profoundly yours, but something really valuable not what you had. Riches are not bad, unless you are too attached and blinded by those fancy, shiny things. And I really think in the past you cared enough about those things to have them own you, but you are free now. Now you can pay attention and care for the most important in you, your soul."

Malfoy snorted, turning just slightly to her and rubbing his neck. "My soul? How is that important? Who even cares about that?"

"Many people do, the people whose opinions matter." Hermione looked at him with incredulity and compassion. How could he disregard the value of his soul? "I also happen to think it's the most important part of a person."

He turned his head to look at her and ask, "you do?" That was some important information to keep in mind.

"Yes! And now you can have an open mind to question everything, even the value of your soul. You might learn to appreciate the good in every person, no matter where they come from. Now you can learn how, true love, peace and happiness, feel like."

Seeing that he didn't immediately speak she added, "I suspect our friendship wouldn't have been possible if you had been the same. I hope you appreciate that as I do. If Voldemort's side had won and your life had stayed the same, then I don't know if I would still be alive now; I don't know if you would have even cared. You would probably still believe I was inferior, dirty, repulsive."

"And that... is... horrible." Draco started with a painful feeling in his chest and turning his head in her direction for a second to say, with anguish in his face, "sometimes I really feel I hate myself." He had made so many mistakes and maybe the consequences of those mistakes were going to follow him around for the rest of his life. He paused for a moment, he needed to ask her a very difficult question, he swallowed hard and looked directly into her eyes, "Don't you feel you would like to have some form of retribution? To make me pay for what I did, to you, to everyone?" Then he moved his eyes away from her, to the ground, but still kept his head more or less in her direction.

She didn't, but she was silent for a moment thinking about how the -an eye for an eye- philosophy can escalate problems again to the level of a war; where there is so much suffering and many losses. She remembered her own pain during the war. Having lived apart from almost all of her friends and family. Needing their support but knowing it was impossible to go to them. The solitude. The fear. The deaths of her beloved friends. Thinking she might never see her parents again because... she might not survive either. But knowing the sacrifice had to be made, and when you know how big of a price there is to pay, you wouldn't mind first looking for ways to reconcile.

After the war she had mentioned to her parents how they were going to testify in his case, and they had encouraged it. They said he had just been a very badly raised boy. In their eyes still a minor when everything happened. He wouldn't have been sent to jail in the Muggle world. They told her how everybody makes mistakes, especially when young and inexperienced and, even more, if misguided by the people around you. They said reconciliation was a very important process too. He could still change a little more easily. He was young; the bad hadn't set deep roots and hardened in him yet.

She wasn't talking, so he started assuming the worst. His heart pounding, he chanced a glance at her, and she was looking at him with an expression that, miraculously, could only be described as tender.

"No, Draco. I think you paid some in Azkaban, and actually, you are still paying for the consequences of the past." She said and there was no trace of resentment in her face, there was compassion, understanding. "Sometimes our own mistakes carry the punishment. I have forgiven you already... but at some point it won't matter if others forgive you or not, you are also going to have to forgive yourself."

He couldn't focus on her forgiveness part of her statement without shattering, and he was grateful she went on and said something else for him to think of. As it was, he had the strangest painful sensation in his throat, that he also refused to pay attention to.

"How do you even do that? Forgive oneself."

"Well, it is not easy, and it can take time."

She was thinking of the changes she had to make as a part of growing up, how at some point in her life as a student, she was not liked at all. She now could see that, back then, she seemed as if she didn't care about anything but being the best student and doing things her own way. It was terribly painful to be rejected. How lonely and sad she felt, after she had overheard Ron saying she didn't have any friends because of who she was. To feel that she had created that problem for herself. The desolation she felt crying alone in that cold ancient bathroom.

Then she had to learn some ways to better get along, to show she really truly cared about others. "Maybe you start by understanding where you are coming from. You make amends when possible."

She continued, "and you change what you don't like, little by little. You start trying to be the person you would respect, a person that will bring good to the world. Developing the right values, the right ways. I also remember I read somewhere, that the way you treat others comes back to you, as a boomerang. And supposedly not as a supernatural happening, but as a reflection of your own convictions. Then, if you are forgiving and compassionate that will allow you to let those feelings come back to you."

"Sounds so simple," said Draco, slowly shaking his head in a daunting moment of fear, while realizing the magnitude of the task ahead. He moved his body to face her again. The moment of extreme fear had passed; now he needed to talk. "But that is what got me thinking. My feelings are not that gentle. I don't know how I am going to be that better person. When I asked you for time to reflect, I was just experiencing a great deal of resentment towards Weasley. I felt you wanted me to accommodate meeting with your friends just in consideration of him. No matter if I was ready or not. I didn't feel like giving him that pleasure."

"See," he huffed and continued "I probably can't be that better person. "

He remembered how after she showed him empathy, he felt ashamed of just being able to apologize slightly and covertly after she gave the first gesture of goodwill.

"You were the reason for the beginning of our friendship. I thought I would have loved to be the one that started showing kindness to you, but now that it is Weasley the one involved, I feel rejection towards being kind to him because he hates me. Which makes me think again, if you have shown me resentment, I believe I wouldn't have been willing to engage you. The longing for having been a better person is probably an illusion I have, from this side of the story."

"Oh, but that I know," replied Hermione, tucking some of her curls behind her right ear. "Someone has to give the first step in breaking the circle of hate; I was in a better place than you to do it. I also understand you not being enticed to engage Ron; he can be a pain sometimes, but you might learn to tolerate other people's shortcomings, to give the first step; once you feel stronger. And really, this isn't just about him; it is about us all, it's about you. You are going to be able to have more friends, my friends. Everything is going to be better!" She finished with a big smile on her lips and sounded very happy.

"Okay Granger, you are the expert here. We'll do as you direct."

"Thank you! You're going to enjoy this too." She was excited, this was like a puzzle she was solving. Soon everything was going to be easier, no more drama and some day even Ron and Draco could be friends.

"We'll see." He said feeling a little anxious, he wasn't totally sure he could enjoy dealing with her boyfriend, but he wanted to cooperate with her idea, especially now that she seemed so thrilled.

Hermione then remembered, and she told him, Harry had offered to tell Ginny, so she could cooperate with the plan. He said it wasn't necessary. Just telling Ginny the same thing she was going to tell everybody else would be enough. She had an idea of what could be said to the bunch.

Then they discovered they had a problem; Hermione and her friends usually ate dinner at around 5:30 and Draco was in class at that time. So after checking the different possibilities they decided to get together for lunch on Friday. Hermione didn't want to do it the next day, a Thursday. She needed time to let her friends know, one by one, she was going to invite Draco.

"I think lunch is the best option," she said excitedly after they had decided. "Almost everybody is there except for you. We usually start at around 12:15, is it okay if we meet somewhere so we can arrive together? or do you prefer to arrive on your own and meet us there, at the Gryffindor table?"

"Not at all, I prefer to meet you beforehand, so what about 12:20 at the bottom of the stairs right outside the main entrance to the hall?" He wanted to avoid all the people going in and, perhaps, if they arrived together, he could maybe stir her away from her boyfriend and make her sit with him.

"Great!... I'll meet you there on Friday." Everything was going to be easier soon, she could almost feel it. "Hey!" She suddenly remembered "There is something else, I asked Harry if he would be willing to help us contact your aunt Andromeda. I think he is going to go visit them soon, she and Teddy; I think next week on Sunday. Oh! Beautiful Teddy you are just going to love him." Hermione told him with dreamy eyes. "Maybe he could start talking to her about you, about the possibility of meeting you."

She sounded like she had drank two shots of espresso, he thought, where did she get all that energy from? and so quickly, like out of nowhere. "No, not yet, or at least not him," came the answer. "He doesn't know anything about what is going on with me...mmh…" he seemed to be thinking about something and started combining his hand on the back of his head. "Hey... Maybe you could help me craft a letter? I could make a draft and then you could give me advice, see if what I say is reasonable."

"Sounds like a good idea, and after Friday we might not need to come all the way here to talk. We are going to be able to just knock at our doors; sooo convenient." At some point she had bent up her legs embracing them with her arms and in the emotion of the moment she turned to him released her legs and bent them down, they ended touching his right knee

He saw her moving and the feeling of her legs touching him made his chest jolt. "I know I said that." He started, moving his gaze from the place where their legs were touching to her eyes. "But now, I am not sure anymore; this place is nice." He longed to be with her, like at the moment, many, many more times and talk and forget about the world.

"You could always come here and relax, I don't own the place."

"It's not going to be the same Granger, coming here on my own." Yes, he wanted to continue coming here with her and he'll be damned if he didn't express what he wanted. She had given him back the ability to sleep. She was helping him restore his life. He was going to fight for that.

"You could always invite someone special and she could come with you." She winked at him and grinned, expecting him to understand he could invite a love interest. Soon, she thought, he will be doing things with other people. Initiating new friendships. Maybe getting a girlfriend.

"Would you still be willing to come with me sometimes?" Dang, couldn't she see it was her he wanted to be with? If she didn't guess then he was going to ask. He knew that many times you have to ask directly so that people can know what you want.

She saw he hadn't gotten the idea. "I would, but there might be more interesting people you may want to bring here with you." She smiled again with complicity.

"I can't think of anybody else." He said looking again at her knees touching his leg. She was so close yet so far. He would love to come up with a reason to get closer to her physically but couldn't think of anything.

When he had been alone with other girls, he had never enjoyed those times as he enjoyed being with her; there was a different quality in their interactions. She was patient, tolerant, and a good soul. With her he could be open, he felt he could just be. No pretenses. No acting just to seem sophisticated, to enlarge his ego, to protect his vulnerabilities. After being around her he felt warm, accepted, maybe truly loved for the first time?

He felt things he had never felt before. Other girls always wanted something from him, he could sense it. Hermione was right, they had wanted his power, his prestige, his money, they wanted him to perform for them, to just act as a stallion or something; some didn't take long to start touching him, to proposition, to suggest intimate activities, and he had enjoyed the attention, the easiness of it all.

Sometimes he had taken those opportunities to be physical without even being that hungry and after the emotion subsided, he had thought that everything was superficial, they didn't really know him or care about him, and there was some emptiness left behind. Now he was realizing they would abandon him if he didn't have those things to give. And he was just human, he could be broken too...

But Hermione was right there, with him, at his lowest point. And she wasn't expecting him to give her anything, she had been the one giving him many things. He was wondering if she too might sort of like him. She had been going to great lengths for him.

He was so confused about what exactly he wanted with her. Everything was 'confusion' inside his head at that moment.

He was definitely on a different frequency, so she said, "Of course we could come again. Would you like some day to come look at the stars with me? I love looking at them."

" Friday?" He quickly replied looking at her, his chest full of excitement; he really didn't mind it at all sounding so eager to be with her.

"Maybe. Let me check. If not maybe Sunday night after you come back or next Friday. Maybe some of my friends could come with us too."

"No please, perhaps some other day they could come. If there are more people this time we are not going to be able to enjoy it as much."

He is getting too attached to me, She thought and the thought worried her, "Okay, I can tell you what works for me on Friday, during lunch." She needed to hold that plan to watch the sky until things were better with Ron or until he was comfortable enough with her friends so they all could come; otherwise, how could she explain coming at night with him alone to this place?

"Okay," He hoped it would be a yes.


	12. Following Her Plan

**12\. Following Her Plan**

After looking around Draco confirmed the time to meet Hermione had been a smart choice. Most of the students were already inside the hall. He leaned back on the staircase wall to wait for her in the place they had agreed. He pulled a card from his pocket, it had a summary he had made of the most important points for his class later that day, and tried to review them but couldn't concentrate, anyway he kept his eyes on it to avoid people.

He could hear the loud indistinguishable chattering coming from inside the building. At some point in his life he had been one of them; carefree. But Hermione was right, he had been growing; everything had crumbled to make space for a new consciousness. Now he had to continue growing it and still fight the inertia of his past self. He could feel the old him still in the background; granted, weak and batter but still there, demanding to be brought back to health.

He knew there was the possibility of seeing the Gryffindors rejection, but he couldn't care less. After facing the possibility of Voldemort's wrath being unleashed on him and his family for long months; after having Voldemort mocking, ridiculing him and his family; after his fierce, frenzy threats of death and torture; facing teenagers' disregard was nothing or at least not at this moment. What really had him feeling unsettled now, was the possibility of witnessing Weasley's obnoxious lusty expressions.

Who couldn't have witnessed his past exhibits with Lavender Brown. They had been everywhere with exuberant kissing and touching, making everybody witnessing it a little uncomfortable. Too shallow to assert they needed a more private space. Was Weasley going to try that with Hermione in front of him?... to prove his power, to rub it in his face.

"Hi Draco," Hermione said with a happy smile adorning her lips and with that he was startled out of his thoughts, "have you been waiting for a long time?"

"No." He put his card in his pants pocket and stepped away from the wall. "How are you?"

"Excited, you?" Hermione asked, he looked serious, there was a subtle frown on his face.

"A little reluctant"

"Oh! it's going to be great, come on, let's go," she said pulling his arm softly as an invitation to start walking, better to act quickly, before he had time to change his mind.

They walked in and as soon as the Slytherins noticed their presence, and that they were walking together, their table went crazy cheering and wolf whistling. They just stopped when reprimanded harshly by a couple of the teachers that were around.

When the noise started Draco turned to the Gryffindor table and saw Ron shooting daggers at him, red and furious. No, he wasn't going to be able to stand this. He reached and held Hermione's arm. She stopped and turned to face him with concern.

"I think I don't want to do this today," he said, shaking his head slowly. F… that Weasley guy. Why the hell was he so angry for? It wasn't like they had done anything inappropriate. He had respected his girlfriend even though he had felt like doing something at some point. He felt he wanted to punch him in the face. Not even Harry was that angry at him. But he needed to try to be a better person. That's what his new friend had told him.

"Don't pay attention to Ron." She had noticed too.

He had purposely neglected to let go of her arm.

"Take your filthy paw off her" Ron yelped. Ginny immediately elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Why?" Protested an angry Ron turning to look at his sister with a scowl on his face.

"Why do you have to be so petty?" Ginny told her brother.

Hermione had told them she was going to invite the guy, hadn't she? So, what was his problem? In quidditch practice she had physical contact with boys all the time, what if he was holding her arm? No big deal.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head, showing Draco she disapproved of Ron's attitude. Then turned furiously to give Ron a harsh look he missed because he was being reprimanded by Ginny. In the process she had felt Draco still clutching her arm and moving his thumb up and down slowly. What was he doing? He was just not going to back down so easily; he wanted somehow to let her know that. The movement was inconspicuous enough to not get her in more trouble. But it made her skin tingle and she couldn't help but blush a little when their eyes met.

"Maybe next week?" He finally released her arm.

"Please... stay," Hermione said with pleading eyes. If he left, everything was going to look murky, and everybody was going to continue adding ideas to the story they were creating.

"Um..." after a big sigh "okay... Let's go to your table," he motioned with his head "I'll just stay for a minute, I hope it is okay with you." They started walking. He needed to make an effort. She had told him he could choose to change into someone he would respect, take care of his soul, she appreciated that. He definitely was going to keep that in his mind all the time and try.

"I guess it'll be enough for today... come on let's go this way," she told him and he followed her in the direction of a big enough space in front of Harry.

Once they were close, Ron moved a little to his right squeezing closer to his sister and called, "here Hermione." He had made some space for her.

"Thanks Ron but there's more space over here," Hermione answered pointing to the bigger space in front of Harry, right next to Luna, who after the war preferred to hang out with the Gryffindors. "We can sit in this spot," she told Draco, turning to see him.

They would actually be able to both sit there unlike next to her boyfriend, and that was the appropriate thing to do for this occasion , at the moment Draco didn't have any friends at this table but her.

"Hi," she called her friends. "I invited Draco to come have lunch with us."

"Hi Draco," said Luna. "It's good to see you again."

"Hi," said some of the others. She had told them. They of course have had a ton of questions. But she managed to convince them it was professor McGonagall's idea to integrate him back.

"Hi," he greeted them too.

"Could we squeeze in Luna?" Hermione asked her friend.

"Oh, don't bother," Draco quickly interjected with a wave of his hand. "I think I am not even going to sit down."

"Why Draco? Don't you have to eat at some point? You might as well just join us," Harry quickly said in a friendly inviting tone, the fork still in his hand loaded with ham and mashed potatoes.

"I am actually not that hungry, but Hermione had invited me to come, so I at least showed up, right?"

"Wonderful! So you're welcome to stay and just chat," insisted Harry. Hermione was looking at her dear friend with so much tenderness. He was one of a kind. So gentle, such a big heart, so forgiving. His biggest defect was: he didn't need her that much, and even less now that he was with Ginny.

"I'd like that but I am really behind in some work, so I better go back to the library and do it."

"Okay, but now that you know where we sit you could come join us whenever you want," Harry said jokingly and finally decided to leave his fork loaded with food on his plate.

He was definitely trying to fulfill his promise.

"Thank you Potter."

"Potter?" Harry laughed in a friendly way. "No, just call me Harry."

He noticed Draco really seemed and sounded different. Even for this short interaction. Saying thank you was something he wouldn't have expected from his previous classmate.

"Good, I'll try to get used to it." Draco answered with an amused chuckle at the uniqueness of the circumstances.

"Hey, by the way, before you leave, remember we used to play quidditch?"

"That, yes, it's been ages," he laughed a little again while nodding vaguely, remembering the past, when quidditch was important. Hermione was right, Harry was very unique, he knew it too of course. Somebody who didn't know of their past interactions, wouldn't have suspected they had occurred.

"I know; we should organize an informal game, or we are going to grow fat just lazing around." Harry laughed.

They, Ron and Harry, actually played informally or went to see or help with the quidditch training of the Gryffindor team almost every Friday and Saturday afternoon.

"Sure, let's do it some time." Draco had avoided looking at Ron. He was relieved that Hermione didn't want to go sit next to him, and by that, giving him the opportunity of ravaging her with his kisses; just to beat Draco in this male power game that was going on inside their heads.

"Okay see you around, see you Hermione, thanks for the invite. And you know you'll be the first I'll pick for the game," Draco said with a big smile grabbing Hermione's shoulder who had already sat down. Now he was just being obnoxious, trying to arouse some anger in Ron. He didn't know Ginny had kicked and pinched him in order to contain him. Again he wasn't that agreeable. He explained to himself he wasn't doing anything wrong by showing extra attention to his friend. If Weasley got angry, it was his own problem.

"Thank you Draco, but I think my best game is just to cheer from the bleachers." She just smiled shyly at him.

...

Hermione had been organizing and cleaning her room, after a long busy week, it was a mess. She liked knowing where everything was. That was the way to do it, organizing, classifying, first in her head, then in reality. It could even be fun to ask her mind where the most sensible place to store something was. In what container. In what space. So it could be stored neatly and with his equals, and later be found with no trouble. It was also a good idea to make it look pretty; that mindset was a little bit discordant with the effort she put into adorning herself. She somehow thought that making an effort in looking pretty was born out of ego and was a waste of resources, especially in the form of time.

Her parents' letters could hardly still fit in the lovely box she had been storing them. It was time to look for something new.

There was a knock on her door. It was 6:15 the time Draco was usually back.

She left the beautiful box with the flowery design on its place on the shelves of the bookcase and went to answer the door.

Of course, it was him.

A little intrigued and with furrowed brows she questioned her friend, "Hi Draco!... is everything alright?"

There was a big happy grin on his face. "Hi. Yes everything is just fine, Why wouldn't it be?" He was so happy still remembering the cheers of the Slytherin table and Hermione sticking with him.

"Well, you usually don't come knocking at my door."

"Because we usually make plans to meet again. I also sort of suspected you didn't feel like being spotted hanging out with me. But since we followed your plan, I guess now I can come visit you here. And it's Friday, I want to forget about homework. What better way than coming here and spending time with my friend."

"We didn't totally follow the plan, Draco…" she said, a hint of a reproach on her face. "Hey, do you want to sit here and chat? I have some foldable chairs in my room." She said motioning to the space between the entrance to their rooms; Better to invite him to sit outside than to invite him in, it was weird to stay like that for his -visit-, either on the threshold of her door or on the too small porch to her room.

"Yes, good idea."

"Let me go get them."

"I can help you." He said and started following her to her room; he didn't want to wait to be invited. He could just use the appropriate circumstance to let himself in.

"Don't worry, I got it."

"Oh! So, you don't want to invite me in to finally see your room?" He knew her a little by now, she wouldn't be rude and stop him from coming into her room, even if she didn't want him there.

"Oh, no, no, come in, take a look, it's just like yours, except for the personal touch." Hermione said from the entrance to her walk-in closet. It was okay if he just came in and took a quick look at her room, then they could go outside again, she reasoned.

He had closed the door and was already walking towards the middle of her room.

"No surprises... exactly how I could have imagined it. Neat, pretty."

He was looking around checking everything the first thing you found after the hallway was the desk, right now it was covered with papers, after the desk there was the entrance to the walk-in closet. Against the wall on the opposite side you could see her bed with a bedside table on the right, near the door to the bathroom on the next wall, next to that door a big bookcase, finally against the wall to the left of her bed there was a chest of drawers and a window with beige curtains, then he saw the beautiful vase on top of the chest of drawers.

"oh! you still have the flowers." He had paid an arm and a leg for them, and now that he didn't have much money they carried a bigger meaning, much bigger than anything he could have bought in the past. But she didn't know, she couldn't have imagined that he did really tweak his budget to accommodate this expense.

"I do, aren't they beautiful? The pretty flower vase is actually a teapot. I use some transfiguration on it so it could be a vase for my flowers. I don't have a real flower vase," she mentioned from inside her walk in closet.

"Very nice." He was so happy to see she appreciated them, it had been a real squeeze in his budget, but what could he do? He was used to seeing his father lavish his mother with expensive one of a kind gifts. Anything less than those exotic flowers would have felt wrong in his mind.

The flowers he brought for Professor McGonagall had been just typical supermarket flowers. The ones he brought for Hermione were a very special order he chose from a catalog at the florist; after he made his selection they had somebody go to their greenhouses, those with the climate-control and artificial lighting, to magically modify them to the right stage of growth and then freshly handpick his choice of bouquet.

He was also wondering why she didn't own a vase, hadn't Weasley ever given her flowers? Probably not, he concluded and felt some subconscious happiness having beat Weasley at that.

"Why don't we chat a bit here?"

"But Draco, as I was telling you, we didn't quite follow the plan. You don't want to get me in trouble, do you?" Hermione had reappeared at the threshold she was carrying both chairs and sent him a -do you understand- smile with her cocked to the side head.

"With Weasley?" Draco asked, Hermione nodded. "Well, maybe I do now. I've been thinking, perhaps you should take some time off to reevaluate your situation." He had walked to her bed, "could I sit here?" Hermione nodded again.

He took off his hoodie. Then he realized he had a short sleeve T-shirt. Shit, he thought. He stood hesitating for a moment. He decided he couldn't not do it. Then put the hoodie on her bed and sat down on it. That was what his mother had told him to do, since he was a little one, when sitting in their expensive bed covers, with maybe no so clean clothes, after a day of activities and having sat who knows where. He wasn't that proficient with the stupid scourgify spell, you don't pay attention to those silly spells when your main objective is to stay alive. Then he rested his upper body in her abundant pillows. "You are going to be able to see your relationship more clearly from a distance and with no storm going on."

Hermione sigh softly, walked and sat at the foot of her bed, on the opposite corner from him. She had abandoned the chairs and with that, her attempts to get them both out of her room.

"I can see reason in what you are saying, but I should do it calmly and not after an argument. And if Ron comes and finds you here, there is going to be a big one; I don't feel like arguing again, it's so tiring."

"Then let's go tonight to look at those stars you promised." He grabbed a pillow one of the small ones with the soft beige cotton pillowcases and put it behind his head. There were a couple of bigger ones covered in very nice decorative peach color pillowcases. "hey...you have a comfy bed Granger."

This was the closest he had ever been to being embraced by her. Her sweet flowery smell was all around him. He imagined her energy impregnated in all her covers. He was almost laying down on her bed, her soft confortable bed, the place where she surrendered consciousness every night, it was so enticing, for a brief second he imagined sleeping there cuddling with her.

"So, it's Granger again; it was nice of you to give me the honor, at least once, of calling me by my first name Malfoy."

"Oh, don't take it like that," he sat up again and moved his hand forward on the bed as if he wanted to grab her hand but they were to far apart for that. "You know I've been Malfoy for many people, especially when I am not liked, but it's me that calls you Granger, and I've grown fond of it, it represents our one of a kind relationship Hermione." His lips bent to up on one side forming a seductive playful smile and she smiled back. He could relax again, the problem had been averted, he could see on her sweet face, so he rested back on the pillows again.

"Is it okay to call you Granger then, Hermione?" He smiled and winked at her.

"Yes, it's okay…" she shrugged her shoulders. "Now that you put it like that it doesn't feel that you're keeping me at bay while I am trying to be your friend. Maybe you could use both as the mood strikes you."

"I like that Hermione, thank you," he closed his eyes.

He was tired too. Last night he couldn't sleep much having to confront some anxiety; the prospect of having to deal with a table full of Gryffindors wasn't comforting but, most of all, he hadn't felt like facing the ginger git, that was going to test his self control. After a brief moment opened them, "So what is it going to be? Are we going?"

"I don't know... Friday night is the best night for that, right?" When he had closed his eyes, she took advantage and looked at his arm with the dark mark. She could see a little of the outline. It looked so intrusive, such a contrasting sight, the dark image on his pale skin. He never just used short sleeves, she had noticed him struggling with himself when he took the hoodie off.

"It is, and especially for you, I think."

"I think so," she said brushing softly the bedspread with her hand as if she was smoothing creases on it "but today I am not in the mood; I am a little tired, maybe next week?"

"Yes. It's fine."

Really what he wanted was to be around her, to beat Weasley, and maybe... win her? He was cunning, particularly if he felt he really needed something or someone, no wonder why he was a Slytherin. "I would love to go, but if I could come hang out with you here, I could definitely wait to go check the starry sky with you."

She was worried about destroying what she had with Ron risking being found there with Draco. But she also needed a friend now, exactly because her boyfriend was giving her such a hard time. Feeling appreciated could lift up her spirit, and Draco could be charming. She didn't know that about him. She wasn't sure he had always been like that, or if he was changing that too. She suspected a little bit the former, it already seemed so natural in him, effortless. Probably in the past she had never been around him, closely or long enough, to see he was able to interact sometimes in other ways. Maybe, that was it, since he had changed his opinion about her and about Muggles, now he could be happy around her and use some of his charm.

"Are you going to visit your parents tomorrow?" Hermione asked starting to play with some of her curls.

"Just my mother, my father has visiting privileges only once a month." He remembered how he couldn't even touch him, and he wasn't sure he would be allowed to do it ever again. It was a little like he was already dead. Like he visited his ghost in his burial site. "He's one of those extreme cases."

"Do you think they would be alarmed if they knew of our friendship?"

She was still playing with her hair comforting herself trying to erase from her mind the risk she was taking in staying inside her room with him.

"I think my father would, but who cares; I should learn to have my own opinions now,"

She looked alluring playing with her curls. Merlin! She was pretty, he had never realized it in the past, or maybe he did, a little, just subconsciously, but lately that he had really seen her he couldn't just unsee it, "but I think mother is questioning everything too."

"How do you think he got such strong loathing towards Muggles?"

"Well...His side of my family is a very old aristocratic family in France. And ALL of them are stiff, proper upper class brats, just like him and me," he groaned disapprovingly.

"They embrace the values that, they believe, have made them who they are. One of those 'values' is this distrust of muggles." He added some air quotes to emphasize the meaning. "I think they are afraid they could lose their privileges at muggle hands. They might also be scared of what is different."

"You're right, differences make people scared…" She took a deep breath, reflecting how some people might not yet be convinced that muggles could feel the same feelings wizards did; that they were actually the same if not for the powerful magic that at some points could be transform into an awful threatening weapon.

"Do you still have a close relationship with them?"

She didn't know if it would be nice or not that he did. On his mother's side he just had two family members left. But if he did and they were nasty people, the kind that hadn't understood the lesson of the war, then they could be a bad influence on him again.

"Not that close really. I sort of know them all, some better than others." He crossed his arms, hoping to hide the horrible dark mark in his forearm. "We used to visit often because my parents had this property in France. We spent a big chunk of every summer there."

That was painful too, to remember that, back then, he took for granted those other properties his parents had, would be his someday. That he would be able to continue vacationing there.

He continued, "I guess during those visits I just learned and got used to the way to be around them. I really thought we should be some very special kind of breed, or have some special type of genes that we had a responsibility to keep pure." He curled his lips and slowly shook his head, again in disappointment of his own person and family. "As if everyone else carried diseases in their blood. But lately that family doesn't seem too interested in us. I think they really don't care if we live or die."

"Anyway," he added. "The closest is one of my uncles; he is running my father's company, and he is one of the nicest if you're in his tribe. They can be charming too if they need it; my father is a master at that. He can read people and situations and be charming if he wants or needs it; that's why he was sort of successful in his international trading business."

Hermione was listening carefully, she was a very good listener and had an amazing memory, perhaps because she paid very close attention. She remembered Harry once mentioning what professor Dumbledore had said to his uncle, how they had done more damage to his cousin by pampering him than to Harry by neglect.

It was so complex and sad what was behind the process of spoiling a child. The soul in front of her had lived that process. It involved the ego and the lack of capacity to care about anything but ourselves; sometimes -ourselves- in the form of anything or anyone closely related to us, that we perceive as ours. And that pernicious tendency leaves you alone in the end, unable to be genuinely interested in anybody else. A sad, lonely place that lacks peace and genuine love. She really wished he could change that, learn new concepts, he, then, would be able to enjoy life the way it should be.

"So, you don't own the house in France anymore?"

He had noticed her beautiful eyes on him, paying absolute attention, making him feel important. That spell made him take longer to respond, starting a little mesmerized, "Nope... My parents had to sell many things, even the manor has been mortgaged now. All the money we receive from my father's company every month is already promised to something in some way. I told you, I am a poor peasant now."

"You are not Draco, you might never know what it is to be totally poor, but I can imagine the humongous change your life has taken must feel terrible. At the moment maybe just as terrible or worse than having nothing from the beginning. But at least you have more tools than the dispossessed."

She thought he would be able to adapt with time and perhaps her help.

"Yes, I guess so."

"You know, I have this history book where they show some properties of the old families in France, maybe you might know some of them. Would you like to see it?" She asked him with an excited face, her hand on the bed, she looked like she was ready to jump out of the bed to go look for the book.

"Sure."

"Let me look for it."

Hermione got up and went to her bookcase; it was a big one, full to the brim with books. The lower shelves with two rows of books and some others on top of the two rows, packed really full. It was there where she needed to look. She sat on the floor and started removing some books in an orderly way, as to be able to put them back in the exact same place.

It took her some time to get to the history books. Then she had to open all of them and browse through the pages to make sure she would have the right one. Of course, the right one had been the last she checked. Once she had what she wanted she got up, still absorbed by the book. Started walking to her bed. Then she looked, it seemed this time it was his turn, apparently he had fallen asleep. His lips were slightly parted and his skin looked paler.

What now? She thought. I suppose I could let him sleep a little. Grabbing a throw blanket and covering somebody taking an unplanned nap, was a custom her mother had installed on her. It was always pleasant to wake up, from an impromptu slumber, and find that someone had cared enough to protect you, on your own lack of awareness. She did it carefully with her own fluffy purple throw blanket.

After that, she quietly sat down again, on the same spot on her bed and started checking the pictures in the book. In previous opportunities she had just quickly looked through them. They were not what she was interested in on those occasions.

In the chapter about recent times there were not only pictures of historical places; you could also find pictures of people during important historical events. Not surprisingly she saw a couple of people with the surname Malfoy mentioned in the caption of two pictures.

Then she saw one of a wedding, one of the Lestranges, who later became the French minister of magic, marrying a very young lady. Her heart thumped hard when she saw him, it was Draco, wait! No, it couldn't be, his aunt Bellatrix was there too, so young looking, but it was unmistakably her. The young man in the picture should be none other than his father, Lucius Malfoy, but they looked so incredibly alike. His father seemed way younger than 25 she thought. To his side Narcissa, young and astonishingly beautiful. She was carrying a young, pale toddler of around one year who was sucking his thumb and gazing anxiously at his pregnant mother's face.

Who was Draco? The baby in the arms or the baby inside the womb. She had to look at the dates and add. Draco was 18, he had actually turned 18 while in jail. She was almost one year older than him. The thought distracted her a little. She had never reflected in the fact that people incarcerated actually spent part or all of their birthdays inside a cell.

Had anybody visited him that day? Had he even been allowed to talk to his parents? She felt sad; she couldn't start imagining what it was like to be so alone and battered on your 18th birthday.

But yes, the numbers matched. The baby in the arms of his mother was none other than Draco. But he was an only child, something had happened to the other baby, the one in the womb.

Circumstances somehow similar had happened to her parents. They had married late in life and had so much trouble conceiving. They had spent a hefty amount of money in getting pregnant. After the pregnancy that took ages to happen, the doctor hadn't recommended any more attempts; it was too late. Anyway her parents were done. They had thought it was selfish to spend so much money to conceive another child of their own. There were so many children alive that could benefit from the money they could spend on an uncertain treatment.

Oh babies! Those magical creatures. With their big shiny eyes. Their soft velvety skin. Their squish-able flesh in their cheeks, in their hands, in their itsy-bitsy fingers. The untainted innocence. All of that moves you to look at them, to kiss them, to love them, all of them so lovable. At what point a life starts to corrupt?

How much damage his family had done to him? They had hurt him in terrible, terrible ways by not teaching him that there is a soul in every person, that he should respect and try to connect with others and now, as a consequence, he was struggling to learn those things on his own.

Maybe they had been damaged when young too. Who knows when everything started. Who could he have been, if he had been raised in a different environment? Who could benefit from him continuing to suffer? Much more worthwhile to help him escape his old ways and find new roads.

Strangely she was looking at the baby through the almost grown young man in her bed. She needed to wake him up if they wanted to talk at all. She got up and sat closer to him, grabbed his hand and called his name still thinking of the baby.

"Hey Draco," she actually sang the words as if talking to a baby. When he opened his eyes, she said playfully, "now who's the one who got bored?"

"Not bored Hermione, just comfortable with you around." He closed his eyes again, his heart in a beautiful painful ecstasy when he realized she was holding his hand. Her hand was soft and warm and her touch was tender. She had done it because she wanted to, that meant she cared about him. When he felt her releasing his hand he quickly grabbed hers back, he wanted keep on touching her, to keep their connection... to keep her warmth.

"Thank you for letting me nap in your bed and covering me with your blanket," he said as a justification for holding her hand, which he knew he had to let go off now, before she started suspecting things that were still confusing to him.

"No problem, next time you could even take your shoes off and properly lay down to nap. It's more comfy and my friends can nap in my bed."

"Who else lays down on your bed?" He was feeling jealous. For a moment he had thought he had been gifted a unique treat; but not, apparently more people did it.

"I told you, my friends who come visit can do it."

But now he was wondering if Weasley and her..."Ugh!" He said with a surprised and sort of a desperate grimace in his face, as if he had found a fly in his delicious half eaten sup" Have Weasley and you... in this bed?" He questioned, unable to restrain himself. Sitting up and ready to jump out of the bed.

"I don't know if I ought to honor that question..." she looked ticked off and responded with a voice that didn't leave any doubt about it, "you should know that as a privilege to my title I can have boy visitors in my room, but I signed an agreement to not have any inappropriate conduct for students at school in here. I know how to follow rules when I respect them. And anybody, other than me, present after curfew in my room would be immediately reported to Prof McGonagall by the sensor; she took that precaution."

What kind of question was that? And why did she answer? Probably because, since she was guiltless, she felt proud about it. Ron and she had agreed to restrict his private visits to her in her room; they were so tempting. She couldn't use her privileges to do exactly what she was supposed to reprimand in so many horny teenagers roaming around the hidden places at school.

He heard loud and clear the fury in her voice and now that her answer had put him at ease, he knew he needed to make up for that question. "Well, it doesn't surprise me you can have that privilege, they know perfectly well they can trust you." It was a flattering attempt at reconciling, but she still looked fuming so he apologized, "I am sorry Hermione ... It just bugs me so much that he clearly doesn't want me around you. But I am so damn thankful you are trustworthy, I think I might still be a boy," he said pointing at himself, cocking an eyebrow and smiling complicitly. At that she finally smiled back. So he jokingly tried something else, "Why don't we get you a different boyfriend? Someone nicer."

"Don't be silly"

"Yes, let's see... mmh... What about Viktor? What happened to him?"

"Oh!...He was older than me and he was moving so quickly." She was surprised he knew about Viktor. It had been so long ago and, even if very passionate on his part, it had also been so very private. What she didn't know was that they had been the theme of many people's conversations. Of course, they had. He was none other than Viktor Krum, the super famous quidditch star. She had never fully understood how famous that guy really was.

"So it was true. You were actually a thing." Why didn't he feel angry? like with Weasley.

"Oh!" She said with quiet surprise. So he didn't know and she had just confirmed it. Oh well! "For a little bit. But very soon he wanted to talk about marriage! ... I am not sure if it was just an excuse for him wanting other things I wasn't willing..."

"I don't know Hermione. He seemed very smitten with you. After all, they chose you for the second task as someone he would dearly miss. But I understand, I have heard sometimes muggles marry late in life but in this world many marry young."

"I know! Look, I found the book and you are there, how old were your parents when they had you? 20? Did they marry the day of their graduation party?" She smiled sweetly and showed him the cover of the book.

"Oh no! Not that dumb book, with the stupid thumb sucking baby." He stiffened his body and ran his hand through his forehead.

"Don't call him that, he is so cute!" She put so much emotion in her voice, the emotion babies create in some women. Draco had certainly been a very cute baby, like any other.

"Everybody that has seen the picture has given me grief...wait, except for girls that later flirt with me. Is this the case Granger?"

He wasn't totally sure what he wanted with Hermione. But he remembered he had already felt like kissing her. Twice. He enjoyed her presence a lot, and was always looking forward to being around her. He liked many things about her and detested her boyfriend. So what exactly did he want? He wasn't sure.

"Now, the baby is incredibly cute, but you are the one being stupid." They were not that far apart for her to reach and shove him playfully, that was exactly what she did.

"Don't get violent Hermione, I am just curious." He teased her, "come here let's look at your book." And he patted the space next to him.

"They looked at the ancient houses, he had been in a few of them. They saw the people and he told her a little information about some. They saw the picture of the wedding. His father was 26 in the picture, but he looked way younger. His pregnant mother, who had had two miscarriages before she had him. Who, on that occasion, went very early into labor, just a couple of weeks after that picture was taken, and gave birth to an undeveloped premature baby girl, who was unable to survive. They talked about their parents, how both couples had had fertility issues. There were many moments when their bodies touched mainly through their arms and hands. Had Draco paid more attention, he would have noticed feelings moving inside of him again.

But she almost had to go now.

"I am sorry, you know this is annoying, but I'll have to go soon." She was looking at her watch.

"No worries. Hey, by the way, I almost finished the draft of the letter to my aunt Andromeda. And I finished with Sirius' records, but don't hurry. I can wait until you have enough time for Nymphadora's."

He had stood up and was putting on his hoodie.

Those muggle clothes that were so fashionable lately, after the war, were so comfortable. Robes! Talk about uncomfortable! And, dang! He looked so handsome in those too.

"Sounds good, anyway I'll see you soon. Maybe Monday, Right?" Hermione asked looking up at him from her bed.

"You can bet on that." He reached out with his hand and playfully pretended to ruffle her hair.


	13. Coming Back Sooner

**13\. Coming Back Sooner**

He was with Hermione in a poorly lit classroom. She seemed sad, like when tears fell down her face when thinking about what Weasley had done. Then scared, she had the expression of fear he saw on her face when his aunt was about to torture her. She moved closer to him, grabbed his hand and he knew she wasn't afraid of him. She needed to be protected and he wanted to be the one who did it. The person she would run to, whenever she needed someone. He had never felt so close emotionally to anybody in his whole life.

She said his name and moved even closer. Suddenly she was hugging him; it felt so good. Her body was warm, that warmth was filtrating to his every cell, starting in his stomach and chest. Her arms wrapped around his torso, then his on top of hers, one to the small of her back one further up. He knew then she liked him; he had no doubt, so he held her tighter.

He realized his face was touching the soft skin on her cheek. They started slowly, softly moving their heads up and down, back and forth, intensifying the feeling, exploring their faces, skin with skin, sensuously, in circles in lines. His chest craved for more. He could stay investigating her like that forever. Then he found her mouth and was kissing her, those lips he had yearned for not too long ago, when he was staring hungrily at her by the lake. She was kissing him back. He couldn't make sense of anything else but their bodies responding to each other and his emotion. He was desperately hungry, thirsty for her.

His heart was beating wildly, his emotion getting extremely intense so...he woke up, sweating, trembling, all disturbed, wanting more, groggily looking for her and finding it had just been a dream. A vacuum in his stomach, and a burning, urgent need in his whole body. He had to remove his bed covers promptly. Tonight too, his pajama sticking with sweat to his body, this time not for the horrible nightmares, but for the one dream he wanted to go back to. His need was so overwhelming there was no possibility of running away from it...so he didn't.

...

Draco woke up again, it was morning now. He realized he couldn't deny it any longer. His dream had awakened him to the truth; he liked Hermione Granger. He needed to do something about it, but he needed to be careful. He hadn't been the gentlest around her for a long, long time. Sure, now they were trying for friendship, but friendship has different requirements than love. Love is picky. Even when he didn't have any idea if what he wanted was viable, he knew he needed to do something about it.

So he hurried, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, put some clothes on, combed his hair, elaborated a story, swallowed his dignity and went to professor Flitwick. He was his sponsor. Draco had to report to him any emergency or change to his plans, so he could authorize. He went and woke him up. Draco apologized and told him he wanted to come back that afternoon, instead of Sunday. Just after visiting his mother and a very quick check on the manor. He told him he had started making some friends at school. During the week it was really difficult to deepen their friendship, and he had been sort of lonely. Anything to touch professor Flitwick's heart, so he could even feel happy to help him.

It did it. Professor Flitwick had seen him change too. At the beginning of the year he could see him absent, tired, sort of depressed, even if he never failed to finish the work. Lately he had started showing a happier demeanor, having more energy, and this confession of loneliness had obviously gotten to him. Of course he could let Mr Filch know he would be back at 4 today. He would be happy to do it for him. He also gave him some quote or two about the value of friendship. Everyone could benefit from the existence of less sorrow in the world.

But in reality, the only thing Draco wanted to do was to be there, to be with Hermione all the time possible. He wasn't going to leave the whole weekend available to her boyfriend. How ironic, and how complicated. She wasn't alone. Usually people wait until relationships break to try something. Just a few can be bold enough to show interest in the midst of those tricky circumstances, he was. It also helped that he could feel Hermione's and Ron's relationship dwindling.

...

Draco arrived in Azkaban, and he was excited to share his happiness with his mother. He was lucky. What were the chances of him starting a friendship with wonderful Hermione Granger? He had hated her, despised her. He had been a total jerk. He had also envied and resented her. Now he was spending time with her, and he felt they clicked. He liked her or was in love or something. His feelings for her were very strong. He had never felt that way for anybody. The world she had been showing him was one full of light, peace and happiness, something he had never known existed. And now he, himself, radiated happiness.

They were delighted to see each other. His mother could feel his energy; it was different and it felt like some steady, stable energy. As if it wasn't going to be easy for anybody to take it away from him. She didn't know there was one person who could take it away, the same person that had given it to him, but she was right, nobody else could.

They talked about the novel he had sent her at the beginning of the week. It was from this famous author in the magical community. One who questioned, through his work, the value of having different castes in that society. He was very well regarded for his incredibly well written, intricate stories. She loved the book . She explained she had actually read it when she wasn't even married yet, but she had barely remembered anything in the story. She told him how she found herself, after reading the book, thinking in a way that emulated the amazing prose the author used in his work.

"About the theme in the book, I wanted to ask you something, mother," said Draco.

"Of course sweetheart, tell me." Her eyes and total attention were in her only son. Her beloved baby who now was almost a man.

"Did you always think Muggles were inferior?" He knew it was a complicated question, but he needed to know. That was the reason he had chosen the book he sent. He had hoped that through the themes in the book his mother could reflect more about it, "And... do you still think that?"

"It's a complicated question Draco, my dear." She paused for a few seconds, looking at her hands while she elaborated her answer. "I think I could intuit the incredible disregard and deep contempt some of the members of my family had against Muggles, since very early in my life. But I am not sure anymore about how right they were. It is more likely that we have lived with a mistake guiding us."

"If muggles were that different or bad, as some of us thought, they wouldn't be able to give life to some incredible cases of great wizards and witches. Look at Harry, his mother was a bright witch and she was muggle born, I think Dumbledore 's mother was too." She also thought of a famous girl, Draco's classmate, but she didn't feel like mentioning her, what they had done to her was so shameful. "And there are a ton of examples of brilliant half bloods: Snape, your deceased cousin Nymphadora and there are even rumors about Voldemort being half blood. I think many wizards might consider muggles inferior, because they think their ways of doing things are primitive. But again I am not so sure anymore. Maybe it's just that they have -different- ways." She shook her head and looked sad. "I am sorry Draco."

He promptly held her hand. "Mother, it's okay. We all have made mistakes, but we are trying, right?"

Tears fell from her eyes. "Yes, but we got you into this sweetie." She could trace the things that got her son in jail to herself and her husband. To their snobbish attitudes. To their prejudices. To their enlarged ego and pride. The last thing she had wanted in life was her son suffering.

But Draco just squeezed his mother's hand and told her with some extraordinary calmness, "Don't worry about me mother. I am going to recover from this, and I'm going to be here for you too."

Narcissa's eyes were still moist with tears but her mouth had the happiest of smiles.

"There is something different about you dear. You look happier each time I see you." His mother told him with a sweet smile. She was so relieved her only son, apparently, wasn't going to be engulfed by the tragic shameful events they had been part of; with that, she could almost forget where she was and what had happened for her to end up in there.

"I am very happy, mother. I have been developing this friendship with an incredible girl at school. She has been just wonderful to me."

She was thinking she could hear something else than friendship in her son's tone of voice and choice of words. She hoped everything would go well. He wasn't in the best place to have his heart broken. He didn't have all the previous power surrounding him, to distract him and lessen the blow, but she wasn't the kind to intrude in her son's personal life.

...

Hermione had just come back from the Gryffindor girls dormitory. She didn't know Draco had been looking for her. Knocking at her door. Around the lake. In the hall. In the library. Knocking again and again every time he passed near her room. Dreading all along to find her busy with Weasley. This time he was lucky. He had knocked, and she was coming to get the door. She opened it.

"Draco!? What are you doing here?" She was showing her confusion and fear. Was everything alright? She thought. "Aren't you supposed to be home?"

"I was indeed, but I changed my mind. Are you busy? Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course, come in," she said moving aside, to leave space for him to enter. "I was working on a project, but you need to tell me what's going on." She was showing her worries. He came in and closed the door.

"But before, I have something for you." He had a black backpack with him, he slid it down his arm, opened it, rummage for something inside, found it and offered her, with a smile, a fancy box of chocolates. "This is for you," He stayed looking at her with tenderness while she observed the box.

"Draco, this is so sweet, literally...thank you! You are truly trying to spoil me," she said, starting to walk to her desk "...now tell me. What happened?" After admiring them, she left the chocolates on top of her desk; they were imported Swiss chocolates and they looked fancy.

He had walked to her bed. "Can I?" He asked pointing at her bed, Hermione nodded so he removed his jacket, this time he was prepared, he had a long sleeve T. He sat on his jacket, looked up and winked at her. "Don't fret, everything is alright. It's just that I thought it was possible that next Friday you might be exhausted again. Totally understandable. So I decided Saturday is even better than Friday to go to your special place, no doubt about it, and watch those beautiful stars with you. I was wondering...maybe tonight." He was sitting with his right leg crossed on top of the left.

"I guess we could do it tonight, since you are already back, but first I need to finish the thing, you know, I promised myself I was going to finish it today." She pointed to her desk. She had argued with Ron again that morning and their relationship was still sort of on hold which helped her agree to go see the stars with him.

"Absolutely, if you let me stay I'll be quiet and do my own work, or if not I could just go to my room and anxiously wait for you."

"Anxiously!?...You're silly...I don't know." Hermione had never worked around him so she didn't know if he was going to be joking or talking in those circumstances too. "Would you let me concentrate on my paper?"

"I totally would, but it's almost time for you to go eat dinner, I could go with you and try that plan of yours again."

"We could, but I wasn't planning on going to the dining hall today."

"Are you really that busy?" Was she considering not eating because of homework? How could she be? She was smart. He had seen her in the past, when they took classes together, working quickly, and in his case he had never had to skip meals because of homework. But he worried for a moment that he could be messing up her schedule.

"Oh, no, it's just that Ron and I are not speaking, so I don't want to see him." When they argued again that morning after breakfast, she had told him he was not trying. Once he started getting upset it was really difficult to make him stop.

"I see, I could bring something for you and me, we could eat here." He looked at her seriously, then narrowed his eyes and with mischievous expression said, "or we could have a little bit of fun and eat in some secluded corner in the hall, act flirty, make him jealous, he'll die poisoned with anger," he hoped she would say yes, and then he would be able to touch her to caress her, maybe even maneuver his way to kiss her; he would have a perfect excuse.

"That's so wicked." She laughed and shook her head. "But no, let's not kill anybody today, why don't we eat here, then see if we can work, being here together, and later go to the lake."

"Sounds like a plan... Hey! I have an idea, I could have my house elf bring some food and we all can eat here." He knew she had been campaigning for a long time for the good treatment of the little creatures. So he was going to use all his cards.

They did; the three of them eat food prepared for the house elf. The elf was very thankful for the extra niceness in the way he was treated, that change had started maybe a week ago. They thank him profusely. When he left they worked in total silence for a while, until it was time for them to go.

"We need to bring something warm," he said still sitting on her bed and picking up his things.

"Yes, we should," Hermione was putting away her papers on the desk, couldn't continue there was a knock on her door.

She stayed frozen for a moment, looking at the door with wide eyes. Slowly stood up, fearing, started walking towards the door, opened it and then saw Harry and Ron; exactly who she had feared.

"Hi Hermione," said both of them.

Ron had convinced his friend to come with him to Hermione's room. He felt she would be coerced to talk to him if Harry was there. He said, "we were worried about you, you didn't go to dinner... maybe I could accompany you there to get something?"

"Thank you, but I already ate here."

"Then, Can we come in?" Ron was really anxious to finally have this horrible idea of hers come to a conclusion. He wanted to propose to her that Harry continue doing whatever she was doing. Poor Harry, he never wanted them to date as to never have to witness and be involved in this kind of drama.

"No right now Ron, I am busy."

"Mmh...come on, or we could go somewhere to talk." She was smart and cute but she could be stubborn, Ron thought.

"I am busy Ron."

"Come on, I want to talk, we need to talk. You can't keep avoiding me forever Hermione," said Ron starting to feel upset and rubbing the back of his neck, why wouldn't she just comply with her man? Isn't that what a girl in love ought to do?

"I totally can, if you continue being mean to me."

"You started this drama Hermione and I am seriously getting tired of all of this." Ron sounded like he was starting to lose his cool again. How was he supposed to make her understand? He had a plan and Harry, after much cajoling, had finally agreed. But after seeing her bad attitude he felt more resentful. He had been working hard to come up with this plan and solve all the mess SHE had created yet she wasn't cooperating.

"Come on mate, stay calm," said Harry.

"And you think I am happy with you making my life impossible," said Hermione very angry, ignoring Harry.

"No Hermione, it's not me, you created all this stupidity by being naive and bloody stubborn as always." He was showing his anger now.

Draco had been listening from the bed and when Ron started being rude he couldn't help it, and he walked towards the hallway. The guy was her boyfriend; how could he treat her like that?

"Do you want help dealing with this Hermione?" Asked Draco.

Harry's eyes went wide in surprise.

"What the hell is this nasty piece of garbage doing in your room?" Wasn't he supposed to be somewhere else on the weekends? Was he in her bed? What the hell had they been doing? Hadn't he told her never to meet him in her room?

"Really Ron?" Hermione was feeling anxious now.

"Get the stinky troll out of here now," demanded Ron.

"Ron, you're losing your head again." She said anxiously. Everything was escalating quickly, that was exactly what she had feared for, Ron was not going to be able to process and accept the fact that she was spending time with Draco alone in her room when he had been restricted from visiting her in that way.

"Well you lost it when you befriended it," he yelped and accompanied his affirmation with the tapping of her head with his finger and then briefly pointing to Draco with a motion of his head. Heck he was really, truly angry now, like he had never been in his life. Were they laughing at him behind his back? He hated that spoiled, stupid brat, who was used to get whatever he wanted. He had been after his girl, and she had allowed it. Had she been snuggling with the guy? He hated her too, she was humiliating him, so much for being the cleverest witch of her age.

"Mate," Harry clutch his arm.

"Damn it! You're her boyfriend, don't treat her like that." Draco said.

"Don't give me that garbage. You are not the one to give advice on how to treat Hermione. You have actually always been a problem to her, to all of us." Ron told Draco, pulled out his wand, yanked his arm from Harry's grip and started walking towards Draco. "But I have experience dealing with odious stinky trolls."

Draco had his wand ready too. Everything was happening very quickly. Hermione had run to fetch her wand too. But the aggression had begun. A couple of spells were sent and avoided. Harry didn't let it go far. He quickly disarmed them both, but now they had launched into each other with their fists. They both were going for each others faces, suddenly Draco was petrified by Harry and Ron had the enormous pleasure to hit his face with no resistance. Then Hermione petrified Ron. She was almost crying. Please Harry take Ron, and tell him again, he is creating everything in his head."

"Yes Hermione, I will, but you are really going to have to talk to him at some point," said Harry giving Draco's wand back to her.

"I will Harry... at some point," Hermione said wiping a couple of tears.

Harry magically walked his friend to his room, still not comfortable with giving him back his autonomy.

Hermione quickly wiped her eyes once more, kneeled down beside Draco's immobile body on the floor, and reversed the spell. "I'm sorry," she said removing some strands of his hair from the damaged area in his face. He lifted his torso prompting himself on his elbows.

His face was red and dark blue on the left side, swelling quickly. Ron punch had gotten him mainly in the cheekbone. But his left eye was also feeling the consequences. Plus his immobile body fell down and his head hit the chair hard before Hermione had the opportunity to slow and cushion the fall. "Don't worry, it wasn't your fault, Harry...he didn't even let me do anything to defend myself."

"I know, but he could only try to petrify you both one at a time , it offered Ron the opportunity. Let me get you something for the injuries; I have a first aid kit."

They both stood up. Hermione went to look for the balm inside the kit in her closet. He just stood there, holding the back of the chair at her desk, thinking. After what had happened he was sure something had to give. Maybe all the possibilities were now on the table. He wasn't even paying attention to the pain in his body.

She returned quickly, rushed, "Here, this is dittany, let me apply it to you." She got closer and started carefully dabbing the ointment on the left side of his face. Her hands were shaking, in fact her whole body was. "It's going to feel better very soon."

He had kept his eyes on hers, every single second of the time it took her to apply the dittany. He was trying to tell her how much he liked her. How, if she was with him, he would never treat her like that. How his heart was full of love for her. How he was ready to learn from her. Sadly she wouldn't hold eye contact. She had just once smiled sweetly. They were not in the same wavelength.

"How is everything else feeling? your head, your back."

"It feels as if I hit the floor head first, that is what hurts the most."

"Let me see," she reached to feel his head, softly, carefully, but still.

"Ouch" he yelped. There was a major bump on the right side on the back of his head.

"Wow, this is big, but I think the balm would be enough, what about your back?"

"It hurts but not as much as my head, I think it'll be fine."

She was applying the balm carefully to his head.

"I'm sorry Hermione... You told me there was going to be trouble... I did this to you," He said, in between bouts of pain.

"It's okay, something was bound to happen." She was still carefully applying the ointment. Two tears rolled down her face. He wiped them with his fingers.

"I guess now I am doomed, you probably won't want to go with me anywhere anymore." His body was drenched in adrenaline again. But there were other hormones being released too. He couldn't stop looking at her. She was so close, her hand touching him gently. He was in pain, but he didn't care. In some way, all the hormones released by his body due to her closeness were starting to help him again not to notice the pain.

"Well…" she reflected pursing her lips and then continued slowly, "I feel upset... but maybe going to the lake will help me calm down." She started closing the bottle with shaky hands.

His heart leaped with joy.


	14. Let's Go Look at the sky

**14\. Let's go look at the night sky**

They walked to the lake and Hermione noticed Draco was trying hard to be courteous. She thought he was feeling guilty, so she left him. He was carrying one of her two blankets and her bag. He was casting light to illuminate her steps, moving branches and bushes out of her way, all the time making polite conversation.

He told her about his mother, how she was reading books he might be interested in. He was now also interested in muggle books. Which ones would she recommend? Now, that was a topic of conversation she enjoyed. Of course there were all the classics. But she told him how he loved Gibran Khalil how his writings could make her cry every time. How he spoke of truth, love, compassion, friendship, all the very important things in life. Maybe his mother could start with him, there were also very interesting stories about his life and writings.

Then she would say Herman Hesse. Siddhartha was the one she loved the most. The Little Prince was a wonderful piece of art. "Why? What did you like about them?" She explained. She said sometimes it's a matter of personal taste, like enjoying some specific kind of food. Or maybe it's a matter of being able to relate to the experiences in the story. Anyway good literature is good literature and good poetry is good poetry, no matter where you put them in your list of favorites. And there were so many others but they could explore them little by little.

They had arrived at the lake, it had been dark for a while already. Hermione then put a protection around the area, so wide it wouldn't bother them. She spread one blanket on top of two boulders and they both sat. She offered him part of the second blanket so both could be warm enough to enjoy the sky. She took out the binoculars and lay down. Draco followed suit. He turned off the light in his wand.

It was incredibly beautiful, enthralling, magic. The dark, dark background, the black everything containing the tiny sparkling lights. Tiny to our far away perception, when in reality they were truly enormous cumulus of matter. The stars, dancing their eternal, perfectly performed choreography. They were inspiration for art and they were inspiration for science. Amazingly Draco knew a lot about constellations and stars, his family, on his mother's side, had this obsession with them. And even though all students had to study the celestial bodies; his knowledge of them was deep, as she had never known, in anybody their age. So much so that she had stopped talking and just listened to him enthralled, transported, maybe ready to lift her hand at the first question.

After a bit of talking they got totally quiet. She could stay like that forever, in fact they did, just pointing at the casual shooting star. Binoculars exchanging hands silently. Draco had taken every little opportunity to touch her hand, feel her skin with his. Caress her discreetly, carefully...to see if she responded, and even though she didn't, a thought suggested itself. Hold her hand, it was telling him, and it was getting stronger each minute. He was trying to fight the impulse but also quietly flirting with it.

Hermione's energy and emotion was soaring too. It was sort of an ecstasy of peace and astonishment. What are we compared to the seemingly infinite? Our problems? We, each a miracle, a magical happening. We, in comparison, truly minuscule specks, yet with consciousness of the totality.

She felt Draco's hand moving to hold hers. But they, again, were in different mindsets. She was amazed that they could actually feel they were beginning to be good friends.

For Hermione, that was another miracle. One happening in this tiny universe -of the life on earth. Where many things seem chaotic and random, unlike the perfect predictable synchronicity of the skies. Prompted by his grip, she was suddenly thankful. Thankful to have been able to witness the start of the marvelous transformation on Draco's life. To discover he had the same need to be cherished, loved and close to others, than anybody else. He just had to get to the place where he could understand it. Also understand that all people were of the same importance, the same intrinsic value. No less, no more. That had allowed him to receive her friendship, and now they cared about each other. He had even stood up for her. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. Why did she have to cry all the time? It was annoying. Why were her emotions this strong? It was a burden. Why did it have to happen in front of almost anybody? It was embarrassing.

Draco had sensed she didn't reject him holding her hand, her thumb was actually stroking his hand. He turned his body towards her, to see if they were feeling the same need for each other. What he discovered was completely unexpected. There were tears in her eyes, she was wiping them with her free hand, and it was all his fault, he thought. It was as if someone had hit him in the stomach.

He let go of her hand and propped himself up on his elbow, "I am sorry Hermione, I didn't mean to make you sad... Is it Weasley?"

"Oh Draco, yes and no," she turned her body towards him too, bending her legs and resting her head on her hand, "I think it's everything. It's mainly the miracle of having you as my friend. It is the wonderful experience of looking at the night sky... " then she propped herself up on her elbow and continued, "and on the other hand the sad fact that Ron is angry and you two are not getting along." She removed the blanket, sat up, crossed her legs, and dried her tears. "Maybe the stress of having watched you two fight... It would be so much easier if you two realized you could be friends, but instead, you are keeping the hate alive. The kind of feeling that was present in the war."

He removed the blanket too and pushed it away from them and sat up too, "I am sorry Hermione, and I imagine you might, just like Weasley, actually mean ME. I am the one who has been on the wrong side, and is creating havoc for you. I am the one that has made the biggest mistakes. I mean, you are his girlfriend, you wouldn't be if you didn't think highly of him."

"I...well…" she sighed, "I don't even know if Ron and I are still going to be together after today, and I don't think it is just your fault."

"Thank you, you sure always help me forget who I was, but look at this." And he pulled his sleeve up to show her his dark mark. "I excelled in the size of my mistakes. This was me; I was the youngest recruit ever marked. I will always have the evidence. I am afraid you will realize at some point that I don't deserve to be around you; I really am."

"No Draco...You made mistakes, but you had many things against you," She didn't know all the details, but knew that sometimes the issues we inherit go back many generations. Sometimes those problems could grow generation after generation, until finally a terrible outcome is created. "The environment where you grew up taught you many wrong concepts. Nobody creates his or herself alone. I am not saying your parents were the origin of all, who could make that call? We are the result of many, many things. And I can't definitely say Ron or I wouldn't have acted or done the same as you, if we would have lived your life or been taught those ideologies. Ron and I were very lucky in the way our families taught us how to live, and yet Ron..." she shook her head.

He was paying attention seriously, but he still wasn't convinced. "In the end, the fact is that you didn't and I did. Not only that, but you were sort of a heroine in all this, you were giving much more than maybe anybody else."

"Again Draco. How couldn't I? I have received so much. You don't have any idea how rich I am in all the love and wisdom I have received. My parents showed me the way, I didn't teach myself to get involved, they coached me since I was little."

Yes, she was very, very wealthy in a spiritual way. Even if her riches were intangible, she knew she had them. She also knew she needed to share that kind of wealth with those who needed it, like him. If she didn't she would be just as snobbish as he had been.

And she was really thankful for all her parents had done. They had not only helped her become who she was, but they also live their lives intensely. Then, they were able to not obsess over trying to control the life of their only child, as it happens very often when there is just one progeny.

She continued with that tender face expression of hers "I saw them give. Their time, their money, their love. They volunteer helping the poor. They are both dentists, they fix teeth, which is a very well paid profession in the muggle world. They have fixed many people's teeth for free. And I saw people love them for this. They explained this concept to me. They were both very poor when children but people helped them and they became well off. So they said it was their turn to give back. They told me of the importance of helping each other. Life is so scary and lonely otherwise."

She continued, "so, when we can, we give each other a hand. Tomorrow it could be you helping others, but I could only be there for you if you were ready, otherwise when I gave you my hand you could have yanked it off." She turned and smiled playfully at him but he was looking somber, he wasn't ready to joke about that, so she continued in a different way, "now that you are ready, you might just hold it for the journey." And she reached for his hand.

He looked at their hands together. How little she did know about his intentions. He didn't just want to quietly hold her hand. He wanted to grip it and then pull her towards him and embrace her and kiss her and tell her he loved her… well, maybe he shouldn't tell her that, the 'L' word was such a taboo, perhaps just tell her he bloody like her like crazy… but he felt insecure; she had seemed to ignore all the little signs he had sent her way.

And who could blame her, he was thinking, of course he wouldn't have yanked her hand off. He wouldn't now or ever. He couldn't really physically hurt somebody to the levels Voldemort's crowd did. Yet in the past, he hadn't said anything to the people who hurt her. His own aunt had tortured her, to the point he thought she was dying. He had said nothing. He would have allowed his aunt to kill her. Then he would have never had the possibility to get to know her, to be rescued by her... to fall in love...

He had seen so many people killed, he had been totally mistaken, dumb and didn't truly know her, but no, those were not valid excuses, he thought. He also had nearly experienced death himself, it was not a valid excuse either. Neither was the fact that he and his family had been tortured; that he had been afraid for so long of being killed in this manner... and, at the same time, tired of life as it was. Submerged in a daily bath of adrenaline and confusion he had wanted so badly to believe his parents were right and not to have to realize how wrong they had actually been.

Then again, the same aunt had offered her body to the werewolf, and he didn't say anything. He would have let him take her fragile, precious, almost dead body... he wouldn't have said anything... and the horrible creature would have yanked and ripped her flesh with his own wolf teeth, like some fearsome animals do with their prey... disfiguring her angelic face, desecrating her… Draco remembered him saying to his accomplices one day, that he quite enjoyed the soft parts of the face like the lips, cheeks, eyelids and earlobes, especially in girls. Would he have killed her before he...? And for a second he imagined in his mind the creature's back bent, his head making horrible growling sounds and ripping movements on top of Hermione's face: he had seen him eat sometimes and he always did it in bloody savage ways.

...Draco was dizzy, nauseous, the food he had eaten not so long ago feeling so unstable, angry, revolting inside of him, he felt weak… so nauseous, he was even afraid to breath. The smell and sight of blood was so fresh in his mind... and He had to bolt for it. He quickly removed Hermione's hand from his, and leaping from his sitting spot gave three or four fast long steps, launched himself to the ground and hurled like that started violently, convulsively throwing up. When there was nothing left in his system he was still frantically heaving, something green came up from somewhere in his body.

He felt her hand in his back stroking him. She had knelt beside him. "What is it Draco?" She sounded worried, "Maybe the blow to your head gave you a concussion, we need to go get you checked quickly."

"No, no, it's not that.. it's not that… I just had a vivid flashback." He blinked and breathed slowly to regain the strength to stand from that kneeling position. He did and offered Hermione a hand so she would do the same. "I am so sorry, that was disgusting." He pulled out his wand and covered the mess with soil. He felt weak and dizzy; his legs struggling to hold him.

"Come here." Grabbing his hand, Hermione pulled him a couple of steps away. Took her wand and produced some water, so that he could wash the taste in his mouth. "Maybe you might want to use some water?"

He rinsed his mouth several times and for good measure his face.

"Thank you." He sounded down, again like in the brink of emotional collapse. He went to the stone followed by Hermione and sat, put his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead in his hands. After a couple of seconds he said "I wish I could erase everything... I wish I could have known better... sometimes I wish he had killed me, so I wouldn't have to wish for the impossible… forgive me Hermione," And hot tears of anger, sadness and regret started coming to his eyes. He was trembling with the effect of the terrible cocktail of evil he had drunk and spewed his whole life.

Hermione sat to his left, gently put her arm around his back and bending reached the back left side of his head with her face. "You know you have been forgiven Draco." To this he even wept harder. He had been forgiven, he didn't deserve it, but he had been gifted forgiveness. How was that possible? Regret was painfully cleaning his soul.

"It's alright, everything is going to be alright." She was stroking his back with her hand, and then gently kissing his head just behind his ear. Her kiss lasted forever. All her energy was on him at that moment, all her attention and empathy. Until she felt he was calming down. Then she sat up and slid her hand up his back and onto his shoulder

"You are not alone Draco. I'll be with you on your journey."

"Thank you," He said, drying his eyes with his hand. He stayed bent, like he had been, the fingers on his left hand stroking his forehead. He meant it. He was so thankful for her kind heart that was helping him heal his life. He didn't deserve to be with her but he needed her.

"You know," Hermione started with the sweetest voice she could use, he just looked sideways in her direction without removing his hand from his forehead "I needed to go, but I am just going to stay... anyway, we have to be back before the curfew or we will both get in trouble." She knew it was very important, for his right to stay at school, not to get in any kind of problem. If she failed on something the consequences would be minor but not in his case.

"No Hermione, don't fail to fulfill your responsibilities for me, I'll be okay." He sat up straight, his gaze unfocused on the direction of the horizon.

"Are you sure?" She asked and he nodded. "Then let's go back." She stood up and he slowly after her. She was grabbing her bag, hanging it on her shoulder across her body and putting the binoculars inside.

"Do you mind if I just accompany you to the tower and then come back?" He asked her, his head low, his expression somber. Still not keeping eye contact, just chancing a couple of brief somber gazes in her direction.

_Oh goodness! He looks so gloomy._ Hermione thought. She reached out with her hand to anxiously grab a handful of his shirt, as if she wanted to bring him back to happiness pulling him from his clothes. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"No, really Hermione, I'll be fine, you go, do what you have to do." Her hand clutching his shirt had actually brought him back from his personal inferno. He was wondering why she was grabbing him so seemingly desperate.

"Okay, then don't worry Draco, you stay, I'll leave the blankets with you, but remember the curfew, okay?" And she slid her hands around his torso to embrace him. Just like in his dream, she was hugging his body, his girl hands stroking his back, one of them under his unzipped jacket, giving him emotional electric shocks, so he wrapped her with his arms too. His dream was coming true. Oh the bliss! something so much desired finally coming to existence. He could finally feel her feminine body. Her warmth, testimony of her closeness. He wanted to stay like that forever, or better yet, have what came next in his dream. Sadly the dream started breaking, when she began releasing him; he complied. "I'll see you tomorrow Draco." She still had her right hand on his side, looked up directly at his eyes, held his gaze, smiled sweetly and reached up to kiss his cheek.

He saw her move, and he could tell she was going to kiss his cheek, but he was hopeful she might like him too. Otherwise why would she agree to spend so much time with him? Why would she hug him? Why did she want to kiss him? So he decided in his mind this was the moment to know if she liked him the way he liked her. He swiftly moved his head to tell her he wanted to kiss her lips. Hermione caught his intention and stopped barely an inch away from kissing him.

She was shocked, quickly backed away and covering her mouth with her hand mumbled, "that was dumb." She continued to give steps back, then turned on her heels and left, hurrying to the path below.

The breaking of one's heart is always painful.

Especially if all of you have been broken for a long time.


	15. The Dark Past and The Darker Future

**15\. The Dark Past and The Darker Future**

Hermione removed the protection, lit a light with her wand, and continued half running, half fast walking. She had been so dumb; she was telling herself. Didn't she see how vulnerable he seemed? She had to go and embrace him. He probably didn't know about friends hugging and kissing in a friendly way and he was very confused between all the strong emotions placating his being. He probably thought she wanted something else with him. Or could it be that he felt something for her? No, no, that was just impossible.

She was arriving to her room when she saw Ron sitting on the step to her room. He saw her and stood up.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I am in a hurry"

"Then, can I just walk with you to my dorm?"

"Okay," They started walking fast, she was supposed to get together with the prefects and heads for their Saturday meeting, before the rounds. She was afraid she was going to arrive when the only meeting they had every week on Saturdays had already started.

"I went to look for you to the lake; I couldn't get closer to your place."

"Yes, I protected it; I didn't want you around."

"Is there something going on between you and Malfoy?" He was sad. Yes, his temper had gotten the best of him. "You smell like him."

"No Ron, no, no and no. You almost gave him a concussion and yes I hugged him today, just today and you were partially guilty for that. I never cheated on you or would have had. That's not me. You should have known. I guess you had your opportunity."

She wasn't like that, he should have been sure about it, he had known her for so long. If she wanted to be with someone else she would have told him, carefully, thoughtfully, but still end their relationship. She was flushed with annoyance because he was all over the place, insecure but hostile and resentful.

"What do you mean I had my opportunity?"

"I think we should take some time off Ron. To clear our minds. To rethink what we need from a partner. We have been hurting each other so much."

"I am sorry Hermione, could you give me another opportunity."

He felt sure that if Hermione gave him another opportunity, he wouldn't mess up this time.

"Maybe Ron, but we really need some time apart."

"Is this because now you want to be with Malfoy?"

"No Ron. Could you please stop your paranoia? I think we should just stop talking right now." She wasn't going to let him know what Draco had done. It would complicate things even further.

They continued walking together until they arrived at his dormitory, she said good night and rejected Ron's attempt to hug her.

Then she continue walking quickly to the meeting place.

...

Draco had stood there frozen for a couple of minutes. The wind wasn't blowing that hard but it certainly made the already cold air feel even colder, or maybe the cold was inside of him again.

She told him he had been dumb. How to deny it? He had tried to kiss her knowing she had a boyfriend. That definitely counted as something a dumb person would do. That might pass with some girls but not with others, certainly not with Hermione Granger. He had miscalculated; she probably really loved Weasley. The stupid git...

She wasn't the kind of girl that cheats.

He needed to run away quickly, go back to his home where he couldn't be found and nobody could get close to him without him authorizing it. Where she wouldn't be so close yet so far. Where he could avoid thinking about her.

He called his house elf and asked him to lie for him. To say that there was an emergency at his house. Then they both went quickly to Professor Flitwick's dormitory. They were lucky they didn't find anybody on their way there. Draco apologized for the inconvenience. He told the professor the house elf had come to let him know his mother's very expensive albino peacocks were looking very sick. In fact, one had died already; he wasn't going to tell him when that had actually happened. That he needed to go figure out what was wrong, and what they needed to do.

Prof Flitwick said it was okay and gave him a note to take to Mr Filch. He noticed Draco had a different demeanor, but he thought it was because he was worried.

Draco arrived home, thanked the elf and went to his bedroom. On the way he passed though a few cobwebs that got tangled in his face and hair. Damn it! He hadn't done anything that morning inside the house. There must be cobwebs everywhere. Why did they have such an annoyingly big house? He didn't even have the will to turn on the lights. He felt angry, so angry, with Weasley, with his own family, with Hermione, with life. In this mindset, their possessions were just felt as means to enlarge their ego, to pretend they were very special. He was angry at all their things too.

He opened the fancy mahogany door to his room. He felt like kicking it. His room, so freakishly big. He couldn't contain himself grabbed a glass left on his nightstand and threw it with all his strength to the wall, it shattered loudly. There was fire inside his chest, he wanted to scream, to kick, to punch something, to break everything, but with clenched fists and a ragged breath he restrained himself.

He went ahead and not exactly sat but slumped to the floor, on a corner, near the floor to ceiling sliding window to the garden, opposite to the bedroom door. He thought of the possibility of sitting inside one of his closets, to avoid this horrible feeling of being insignificant, amidst so much space. Like another bug, one of those that were finding refuge in his home lately.

He still had one of Hermione's blankets. He hadn't noticed the second blanket had fallen behind the boulder, it stayed there forgotten. He thought he should put it away somewhere, so he could give it back. Be consistent with his initial intention of running away, even from the memory of her, but he chose to keep it with him.

He bent his left leg up, close to his chest, rested his head back on the wall, closed his eyes and then hugged the blanket. It smelled just like her. A few minutes ago, he had felt angry at her, at everything, now he was transported by her scent to the embrace and felt sad, alone, totally deserted— empty.

So sad, and like a little child wishing he could be comforted by her again. He hugged her blanket as if it was her. How he wished it was her.

Why was this so incredibly difficult? To remember the warmth of her body, her arms around him. To recognize his need for her. To know she was not going to be his.

It felt as if life was never going to be worth living without her, like he was never going to be able to climb out of the dark, dark hole of longing and sadness. Never will he find someone like her.

He had never been rejected before. Never an attempt of his to kiss a girl had been thwarted. What do you do after a wonderful, unique girl like her rejects you?

She probably really loved Weasley. At that thought he felt bitterness in his chest. Weasley, the nervous unsympathetic wreck was the owner of her heart. How? Why? Why Weasley and not him? He grabbed the blanket and threw it away from him, with bitterness. The bitterness of thinking he liked her, like he had never liked anybody else in his life, but knowing there was no hope for him.

Why the f.. did she have to appear in his life? Maybe he could have been better without her—

No, that wasn't true.

She had rescued him and he almost touched paradise… almost, but that paradise wasn't for him. Then he curled his body, forearms on his knees and head on his arms. Some time passed. Many, many minutes with that poisoning mixture of anger and sadness in his veins; his head going from one extreme to the other in cycles, each time passing through the middle where both emotions mixed in equal amounts.

There was a sharp knock on his window.

He immediately recognized the sound of a beak knocking.

Wondering who was looking for him at that hour he stood up to go open the window and received an envelope from a common barn owl; it was from Hermione. There was pain in his chest, so he went to his desk , grabbed an envelope, put her unopened letter inside, wrote her name on it, gave it to the bird and paid with the corresponding treat. After that, he hoped, she would understand not to bother him again.

He went to his corner and sat—

That stupid bird had arrived at the worst possible moment, when he was at theangriest point of the cycle in his head.

Soon he started regretting not having read the letter.

So, she already knew he wasn't at school. What had Hermione tried to tell him? That he forgave him again? It wouldn't be strange either, for her to try to forgive him again. Since he opened his soul to her she had always been extremely kind to him. Like nobody else. She was probably the first person that had offered him real love, even if it was just through friendship.

But, all the things she had done for him had nothing to do with her liking him as a man. They were done because she pity him, just like she had pitied the little elves. He was nothing but an endeavor of goodwill for her. Heck! he didn't like just being befriended out of commiseration.

And... he had also let her see him cry— like an out of control child. What was wrong with him?

The shame.

But she hadn't shamed him, not today, not at any point during their short friendship, for anything he had done—

She was compassionate, kind and good and at that thought he felt a horrible knot in his throat.

He wished he could, by just remembering her hugging him, bring that memory to existence—

Then he went to retrieve her blanket, returned to his sitting corner, leaned back on the wall, bent one leg and stayed like that, embracing the blanket with her fragrance, for many many more minutes. A couple of tears ran down his face.

_Could something just strike me dead right now please?_

Another knock on the window, Hermione again? He hoped so, his heart had awakened. He went to the window, convinced he was going to see the same school owl, but it was a different bird. He grabbed the envelope and saw it, was from professor Flitwick.

Dear Mr Malfoy:

I am sorry to inconvenience you this very late at night. The head girl has informed me of her concern about you. Apparently she perceived you two had a bad disagreement, and if you add this to your own household difficulties, she said, you might be in need of help. At her insistence I am writing to you to offer my support or to confirm everything is okay. Please send a response as soon as possible, so we may promptly proceed as needed. If we do not receive a response within an hour, we may find other more involved procedures to be necessary.

Yours truly,

Professor Flitwick.

He went again to his desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote his response.

Dear Professor Flitwick:

Thank you for your concern. No need to worry, everything is under control. I will be there tomorrow at 6 pm as previously agreed.

Thank you,

Draco Malfoy.

He folded the paper, put it in an envelope and gave it to the bird with the appropriate treat. Everything was not under control, but he didn't feel like he wanted anybody else around. He didn't want any kind of lecturing.

That had been very bold of her. Waking Flitwick near midnight. He didn't know if that made him feel angry or less sad, but he didn't want to dwell on it.

Once again he went to his corner, this time he laid down on the blanket and wrapped himself with it. Soon he was comforting himself by clutching a fistful of her blanket and keeping it pressed to his face, to be able to continue smelling her sweet fragrance. His gaze unfocused on the ceiling, feeling like he was hollow, or as if there was a big block of ice inside his chest, so cold inside.

He had fucked everything up by trying to kiss her. If her boyfriend had been jealous before, what was going to happen now if he learned? Perhaps she might tell Weasley and then he will forbid her to see him again or perhaps she won't tell him but will understand that Weasley's concerns were appropriate and then avoid him just the same.

Dumb. He had been just dumb.

He was in a stupor, no energy to move, no will to do anything. He felt it would be easier just to die, than to endure this pain forever.

He had just yesterday told his mother he was going to be alright, but there was nothing else he could do at the moment.

After many, many more minutes, maybe an hour or perhaps more, it's difficult to say when you are so blue, he stood up. It was time to make a decision.

He didn't feel like it, but he needed to think about it. What was he going to do? What was the least painful path he could take, now that he knew Hermione didn't like him like that?

He started slowly pacing his room thinking of the possibilities, but his brain was tired; it refused to work properly. It took him a long, long time of slow pacing, of hazily thinking, time and time again losing his train of thought, falling into nonsensical loops of his mind, to conclude what he needed to do. He wasn't going to stay in school. He was going to drop out, as soon as maybe tomorrow.

He sat down once more in the corner, hungry and tired, knowing he didn't have the conviction or the energy to eat or to go to his bed. He resigned to stay like that all night.

Why didn't she love him? Well, that was a stupid question. Had he forgotten that quickly everything he had told her? Everything he had thought. He had mistreated her for such a long time. He had been a stupid horrendous person. He had allowed bad things to happen to her.

No wonder why she called him dumb.

He had lost her even before he knew how much he could need her. His past was dark, and his future now seemed darker. Another couple of tears rolled down his face.

It was the immense energy of love, through which, life continues making beings cooperate with her. Not only that but in his case that colossal energy had been thwarted and was mixed with the dreadful, horrifying trauma of war. Wars can even break grown men and justifyingly so, they are not any kind of joke. And he had been in the thick of it, even if on the wrong side.

Maybe if he still had his money and power to offer she wouldn't have rejected him. No, he had to be honest, she wasn't like that, she was Weasley's girlfriend and the guy was far from wealthy.

The burning pain in his stomach was wild; he was hungry all right and tired, so damn tired. His body was in pain and weak as during a bad bout of flu; it started betraying him, falling asleep on its own accord. All those attempts thwarted by the violent jerking of his unconscious head and body while falling from his sitting position. Yet he intuited, that if he mustered the energy to go to his bed, he would relieve his past insomniac nights.

In that state of utter misery he welcomed his demons. He remembered all those nights before her, when guilt, anger, fear or sadness went with him to bed. He remembered pieces of all he had done and witnessed. He remembered again, starting to sweat, the nightmares.

Those when dementors chase him, and he was terrified to death, running, hiding, trying to escape. In all the different versions of this nightmare he knew they were trying to kiss him. Azkaban still had a couple of them, just to keep people scared of the possibility. He could feel his heart pounding hard, wild. His legs shaking, weak, failing him. Desperation in all his body and mind; a mind that still wanted to experience life.

Those where he saw himself being dragged to do his job, he had to kill someone, he felt angry and scared. He fought the Death Eaters trying to force him to kill. They insulted him. NO! he wasn't one of them; yet, he was. They showed him his own branded arm. He was one of them, and he had boasted about it at the beginning of it all. The memory was so incredibly painful.

The face of Professor Dumbledore in their encounter at the astronomy tower—

Those where he saw blood, so much blood; people dead or dying. The air thick with hate, greed, resentment, evil. People being tortured; the memory of his own father going through that, screaming in horror and pain. The pleading, the wailing of the dying and the tortured. The crying... the faces of the dead, their vacant eyes in the still warm bodies that sometimes he was ordered to move. His own need to escape, he was being tortured too, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally by everything he was witnessing... There is no way, there are no words to describe the moment when someone loses his or her life through violence, the indelible image set forever in the memory.

Those when he saw the look of contempt towards him on his aunt's face, other times her exasperated urgent demands. Sometimes she mocked him because he was not a proper member of that family, of that community; he got scared, he shattered looking at people dying. He trembled and sweated when he had to torture somebody. Then the disappointment on his father's face. He was not a psychopath like them to be able to look at another person being killed or tortured and not be disturbed. And yet he had stayed with them; tried to be a proper member of that horrible community.

And he had gone the extra mile and taunted people too...

Those when he was in the room of requirements, sometimes hungry and tired working with desperation, sometimes fire all around, sometimes both. The face of Crabbe surrounded by fire; his face with the horror and despair he had seen other times in people about to be killed.

Those where he experienced his fear of his parents deaths. That nightmare had been chasing him since sixth year. The lifeless body of his mother, pale and covered in blood, her face disfigured by the curses and blows she had received. And him out of control with emotional agony, looking at all the damage his mother had gone through before dying. His desperate cries for her. All the times he had felt everything had been his fault because he didn't fulfill his responsibilities, he hadn't been able to fix the cabinet.

But in real life he had succeeded and death eaters entered the school, sadly, thanks to him...

He once had seen Hermione in his dreams of torture. A horrible knot in his throat again. He liked that beautiful girl. He wanted to be soothed by her and protect her, attended by her and taking care of her, just her; her master and her servant, her companion, all at the same time, all with her...but she had said no.

He was so sad...What time was it? Probably close to dawn. His body was very, very cold now, he was shivering.

This was too much. He couldn't stand it any longer.

He stood up with a plan in his head. He went slowly, almost dragging his feet with lack of energy, to the medicine cabinet in his parents bathroom. And looked for something to aid his stomach. He was going to need it. But a thought crossed his mind, maybe he could end everything already. He felt there wasn't any happiness in the future for him. Yes, maybe he should just end all the despair… he stood there contemplating the possibility.

He could surely concoct a potion—

It wouldn't be that difficult—

But no—

He couldn't.

He shouldn't

His parents would suffer all the way to madness if he did it.

Resigned, he took something for his stomach and then went to the wine cellar looking for more relief. It was locked; his poor elf had tried to keep him away from it by locking the door... so naive. He withdrew his wand from his pocket, unlocked the door, opened it and slowly got in.

He was going to look for the most expensive bottle of alcohol in that room. To celebrate not being liked by the girl he loved, to celebrate his dropping out of school and his young life already gone to waste.

There was a lack of desire to continue living and facing the consequences of his abhorrent mistaken past.

He knew how to remove the protection on the cabinet, the one containing the most expensive wines his parents had. He opened the door, the light inside turned on. He caressed the smooth varnish wood and chose his venom, the most expensive bottle of champagne they had and, just to laugh with irony at his life, he added the cheapest bottle of firewhiskey in the room, the kind they just used to prepare some potions where the quality of the taste didn't matter just the high amount of alcohol.

Soon there will be daylight and his rumination will be interrupted by the elf. He decided he was going to stay in his room, put a note on his door, explaining he hadn't been able to sleep well and was going to try again, to please wake him up at 2 pm.

Once on his bed, he uncorked the champagne bottle and opened the firewhiskey. There were a couple of even more expensive bottles in the cellar. But champagne had a mystique of celebration. He was celebrating, wasn't he? Plus he liked the flavor, the feeling of it, and just like that, the bottle was brought to his mouth. No need for a glass. With an empty stomach of almost twenty four hours, even the first sip had an effect on his body. He drank slowly. Enjoying the feeling of being satiated, of abandonment that alcohol gave him in difficult circumstances. He wasn't hungry anymore. In his case, whenever he had gotten drunk, he didn't laugh, he didn't cry, he didn't get angry, he just felt sedated, dizzy and sleepy.

Switching back and forth from one bottle to the other, he drank slowly, as to still have minimum control of what was going on. Finally after some two hours and more than half the bottle of champagne he fell asleep, that bottle in hand. By then it was later than 9 am

...

As soon as Hermione had finished her nightly routine, making sure, with the other heads and prefects, no student was wandering around the school after hours and all the wards were intact. She came back to her room, but couldn't control herself, immediately began pacing. She was trying to explain to herself why it wasn't a good idea to hug whoever, whenever she felt like it. Maybe he wasn't used to that kind of affection. She needed to apologize. There was also the possibility that he hadn't come back from the lake; nobody would be able to tell, and he had been so distressed. It was imperative to go check he was safe.

After knocking for a few minutes on his door, she concluded she needed to try to contact him some other way. Maybe he was still by the lakeside. She sent a note; wherever he was the owl would know.

After she received the -no response- letter, it was necessary to go look for help. Where was he? Was he going to try to hurt himself?

Professor Flitwick didn't take long to open his door. He usually went to bed late.

"Good night professor; I am sorry to bother you," she started. "But I have a problem and I really need your assistance." She bit her lower lip with worry, inhaled deeply and continued, "Draco and I had this disagreement and he is not in his room; I am worried-" she saw the professor nodding and trying to say something so she stopped.

"Of course he is not in his room. He went back home for an emergency. He came to ask for authorization." He replied kindly but with suspicion in his head. The boy had wanted to come back to hang out with his friends. He had argued and abruptly wanted to go back. The professor had also witnessed all the craziness on the Slytherin table that Friday when they arrived at the hall. It seemed that she was one of the friends he had referred to. Or maybe… maybe she was the only reason.

"Professor, please, could you maybe check he is okay? I already sent him an owl, but he didn't reply," Hermione insisted. She needed to make it clear she feared for Draco's integrity. She had never seen anybody as distressed as he had been. And she had heard about the terrible psychological consequences on people involved in wars, especially if they have seen the innocent die, how sometimes they are tempted to hurt themselves.

"You sent him an owl," the professor repeated her words. "He didn't answer, and you are worried." He was putting two and two together. "Let me ask you, Miss Granger. Is there anything going on between you two?"

"I...Well...mmh...I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders slowly, timidly and could feel her face burning with embarrassment. She wasn't expecting that question.

"What does that mean miss Granger? I don't know."

"He...uh...he might have feelings...for me... but I am not really sure"

"So, I am assuming, this whole thing might have to do with you not feeling the same for him?"

She lowered her gaze, nodded and mumbled, "maybe, but that's just part of it."

The professor said he thought Draco was going to be alright, but she had to explain, he had been so stressed out for other things, that he had even thrown up bile. With that the professor agreed to contact him.

"Okay, there we go," Professor Flitwick said while watching the bird fight away with his missive. "Miss Granger I think Draco is going to be fine, so I want you to go to your room and get some sleep. If there's a problem I'll take care of it."

"But professor," Hermione pleaded.

"He's going to be fine, nobody dies just of a broken heart, Miss Granger."

"You're right professor, but it wasn't only that, the issue is that he might really, really be in a serious post traumatic condition after the war."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to talk to him on Monday. I'll suggest some resources. Some therapy, this was a war after all. On the other hand, I am so happy he was rejected by no other than you miss Granger." Hermione was puzzled by his statement; but he explained himself, "very few people, if any, can go through life without experiencing rejection and hardship, but you are a very smart person miss Granger; I am sure you can help him understand his well being has to come from within himself. If he loves and respects himself, he will be strong enough to accept disappointment."

"I'll try professor".

"Yes, just try, but also keep in mind that, whatever he ends up doing, it's in the end his responsibility. He is an adult now."

...

Draco woke up. It took him a couple of minutes to actually remember everything that had happened, and why was he at home clutching a less than half-full bottle of champagne. He heard the knocking on the door. It had been that, what had awoken him. It was the elf trying to let him know it was 2 pm. He told him to come in, and then, after being asked if he wanted something to eat, he requested some specific food. Always being careful to keep some distance, to prevent the elf from capturing the scent of alcohol coming from him. He had hidden the bottles.

He barely ate the -very late breakfast- in his room and accompanied it with more sips of the sparkling wine and the strong firewhiskey. Who cared! He needed some liquid courage. He flushed the uneaten food down the toilet.


	16. It's Good that You Are Back

**16\. It's good that you are back**

Hermione had been worried the whole night and then the morning too. What was going on with Draco? Those had been a crazy series of events. She didn't know how to put everything together, and that... she didn't know if there had really been an emergency at his house, but she seriously doubted it. Otherwise why wouldn't Draco answer her owl? This definitely had to do with what had happened between them.

Professor Flitwick now knew, because of her. She believed it had been necessary.

In the morning, Hermione didn't think it appropriate to go to his room to pester her teacher, to know what had happened, but she was ready to catch him before entering the hall for breakfast. She needed to ask him about Draco. She just couldn't erase from her mind the image of her friend hurting himself.

"Professor Flitwick," she called and ran after him. "Could I have a second of your time, Professor?"

"Of course Miss Granger, " he said after turning around to see her.

"Did you hear back from Draco, sir?"

"Yes Miss Granger, he replied and said everything was okay. He'll be back at six as usual."

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said looking shy. "I am sorry about having bothered you so much with this."

...

Hermione arrived at the school gate before Mr Filch and waited. He arrived punctually two minutes before six. At exactly five passed six he was furious. Didn't Draco Malfoy know he was a busy person? He needed to go take care of some other more important things. Hermione offered to open and close the door for him, anyway she needed to wait for her friend. Yes, Mr Filch thought, that could be done. She was the honorary head girl and, as that, she was authorized to handle the gate. He left the key and instructions that she already knew with her.

She had started feeling restless. Watching every detail on the new wall and gate, built after the war, couldn't continue distracting her any longer. Finally, at 6:30 there was a knock on the door. She looked through the peephole; it was him. With anxious hands she opened the door.

What the beep was she doing there? Filch was supposed to open the door for him. He hardly looked at her.

"Draco," she said as a way to greet him.

"Granger," even saying her surname was painful. He said it not even looking at her and with severity in his voice.

"It's good that you are back," Hermione said starting to close the door.

"Not for long," he muttered, already a couple of steps away from her, not even bothering to turn her way. Quickly he continued walking to his room.

"Wait!" She called, she didn't quite get what he had said. She still had to protect the door and leave the door key in its enchanted encasing in the wall.

Apparently he didn't hear her or didn't care because he was rapidly leaving her behind. She had to run to catch him before he closed his door.

"Draco, we have to talk," she said clutching her side and panting a little. He was inside his room just looking at her with cold eyes. "Please," she begged.

He moved to the side to clear some space for her to come in, while continuing to hold the door knob. His expression was somber, maybe angry. Hermione started feeling awkward, a little scared. What happened to their friendship? She waited for him to close the door and look at her before speaking, "I am sorry Draco."

"Never mind," he answered cold, dismissive like the Malfoy she knew before the war would have sounded.

"You have been drinking!" Hermione had caught the smell of liquor when he spoke, there was horror in her face, "That was irresponsible Draco, coming to school intoxicated. Mr Filch could have found out. They surely would have punished you, maybe expelled you."

He curled his lips with contempt before speaking, "it doesn't matter, I am leaving the hell out of this school soon, very soon, maybe tomorrow."

"No Draco... but ... it isn't worth it." She was in shock. She had done that. Yes, she had been so dumb. He surely wasn't used to friendship hugs and kisses. He had misinterpreted her intentions. Tears started falling down her face fast. "You can't throw everything away like that, it's your life Draco, it's your future... please." It was real, what professor McGonagall had told her was true, there was a reason to worry about him. He could fall into the grip of alcohol, and he was just 18. He was probably one of the people that horrendous war had hurt the most. He was the student that had witnessed the most deaths first hand and, worst of all, from the wrong side. He was alone, and guilty, to a degree it had him rejecting the help people wanted to give him, to the degree of wanting to abandon trying. At least she, Harry or Ron had lots of good people surrounding them with love but not him. "Don't do it, please... stay."

She was crying on his behalf... if he could only hug her, without hurting himself in the process, without needing her more afterwards. He wished he could, but he didn't have the strength, the emotional stability. It wasn't possible. "I think you need to go now," he said sternly, with cold, icy eyes. "You can go to Weasley; he can comfort you all you want."

There wasn't despair in Hermione's expression anymore, she felt offended, insulted. She didn't have a boyfriend anymore, and he was partially responsible for that. She had been there for him, even after all the trouble that had generated with her ex boyfriend. Now he was dismissing her with contempt in his voice. She tried to slap him, he caught her right wrist. She said angrily, "you are being selfish, you're going to hurt everybody that cares about you, all because of a temper tantrum." Then, she used her left hand and started pounding his chest. That hand was caught by the wrist too, after the first hit; he was holding her firmly.

He was looking slightly to the side, avoiding her eyes while she continued howling furiously, "you are not thinking about anybody but yourself. I can see now that my friendship means nothing to you. All I care about you doesn't mean anything. Everything I did . All the trouble I went through... Ron was probably right all along." At that he quickly looked directly at her with surprised eyes. "He said you only wanted to get into my pants." And she tried to pull her hands out of his grip with all her strength. But his hands were bigger and stronger than hers, and he was holding her firmly. Then shaking his head, "No Hermione, I didn't... I would never-"

"Let go of me," fuming, she cut him off, while still trying wildly to pull her hands out of his grip.

He closed his eyes for a second, fearing, he didn't want her to be angry at him. He apologized, "I am sorry Hermione, you mean the world to me." He bent briefly to kiss her right hand and continued, this time looking directly at her eyes, "I am immensely thankful for everything you have done, but everything is just so painful that I think I am truly going mad." He let go of her hands, his eyes had turned red and moist.

She started crying again at his confession, at the look of his sad eyes. "Oh Draco! I know... this war has been hell for all of us. But don't go! So many of us care about you." She couldn't contain herself and just went ahead and hugged him.

He simply let her, with his arms by his sides. He anxiously wished not to feel anything, to ignore the closeness of her body, his need for her. He was totally battered.

After a brief moment she released him, "I care about you. Stay and be brave. You will be alright. Nobody, nothing is worth so much for you to destroy your life." She was calmer, but tears were still rolling down her face.

He reached up to wipe her tears with his thumbs. "I am sorry Hermione. I just can't do it." He was still thinking the best for him was to run away. "I can't stop thinking of you, I was awake all night going crazy doing just that."

"Please Draco! I don't understand! Everything was fine between us. A stupid kiss isn't worth it." Some crazy idea came to her mind, she reached up and with her hands in his chest placed a peck in his lips. She didn't expect him to take it as an invitation.

Nevertheless he did, when he felt her lips he was overcome by a sea of emotion and immediately held her tight, kissing her with the desperation of his yearning. His hands on her, one pressing her on the small of her back, keeping her tightly embraced, the other interwoven in her hair moving anxiously with longing. He was finally feeling her lips. Her moist soft lips. And it was heaven. He wanted to tell her he loved her, like he had never loved in his life. And he was kissing her with that emotion that hardly fit in his chest. She could feel him trembling under her hands.

She let him for a minute. She didn't exactly kiss him back, but he wasn't opposing his expressions either. If she wasn't so brainy, scared or in denial she would have recognized she liked it too, her body was screaming to her, begging her for more, she refused to hear. She just thought she had let stupid Cormac do the same just to get back at Ron; it was even more worthy to do it for her friend, to possibly save his sanity. Then she started pushing him away.

"Draco, listen to me, if you leave you are going to hurt your parents." Now she was the one avoiding his gaze for a moment, until she regained control, she had never been kissed in that extraordinary way. "You can't do that.. you have to be brave... I had no idea what you were feeling. And you might just be confused." She was shaken and incredulous of all this happening.

"Confused?" Frowning slightly, he threw one hand up and shook his head briefly. "You have been telling me I could change, why wouldn't you believe then that I could change and feel something for you?"

"I don't know... perhaps I am scared. You used to hate me. I never, not even in my wildest dreams, considered the possibility that you could have feelings for me... then, at the moment, I don't feel the same way for you."

She thought he was just confused because she had helped him. What he was feeling wasn't true. How could it be? They came from very different places, their past was so contrasting. He used to really despise her. Perhaps he just needed to use her, while he was in pain, and then forget about her. Maybe he wasn't capable yet of giving real love and what would happen when, after the infatuation had passed, he discovered that he had mingle and disgraced himself with a muggle born. She didn't feel like engaging in a relationship like that. Putting her heart in a relationship that could break it. She couldn't allow herself to fall in love with someone that could, at some point, look at her again the way he did when they were children, with that disgust; it could devastate her. He needed time to trust, to see a solid chance in him.

"Why did you kiss me then?"

"It was just a stupid kiss. If that is going to make you stay I am okay with that. See, I do care about you. A lot."

"I don't know Hermione, I am just in so much suffering it's insane."

"This is just the last straw Draco. Everything else you are going through it's making it more complicated, but I can imagine what you are feeling; I've been there. Everybody has to go through disappointment in life. I know how that feels. And I know you are going to be okay...listen, I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anybody else, not even my mother or Harry."

He was going to pay attention to her every word, being confided something she hadn't told anybody else made him feel a little better. "I had this crazy infatuation with Ron's oldest brother, he is wonderful, but he is 8 years older than me. I think he never saw me as a woman, but as a child. I knew there wasn't even a possibility for anything to happen until I was of age. But when I was almost there, he met the girl who became his wife. They fell madly in love; I saw it happening. It hurt so much. I am okay now, but it took me a while. Now I know that some things are not meant to be."

"And you think we're not meant to be." Draco said, as to finish her idea, trying to digest everything that had just happened.

"That's not what I meant, I mean that, whatever happens, you will be fine. And it's not like I am married... love is a complicated endeavor. Sometimes it happens easily; sometimes it's not possible, no matter how hard you try; sometimes it happens after some effort, sometimes it's just not meant to be. The fact is that, right now, I don't feel the same for you. Things might change though, but you have to stay put." It was a clever way to make him want to forget about dropping out. "I still don't know you enough to know if I can feel that way for you, but certainly running away is not going to make it happen."

"And which would be the things that would make it happen?"

"Oh! I love a person with a good heart. I also love it when people respect themselves because they love what they do, and do it with passion. I find it very alluring to watch a boy masterfully doing the things he loves. You try that. Show me how you love yourself when you're passionate about something, but know that I am not promising you anything, either way." She was in a way remembering what prof Flitwick had told her, but everything she had said, in the end, felt honestly coming out of her own heart.

"Alright Hermione, I'll stay. Just one thing please, spare me the pain of watching you and your boyfriend... you know... I truly want to avoid that."

"That would be easy... Ron and I broke up, we are taking time off to see if we can be together at all." She lowered her gaze, she had had so much turmoil lately.

"Oh... I...can I hug you Hermione?" He asked her softly, tenderly, after having witnessed what he thought was sadness.

"Yes, please"

She let him hold her while she wept softly; no matter if she was angry at Ron, there was still sadness in the realization that her dreams with him were breaking. She felt like a little child, tucking her bent arms inside the warmth of his embrace, closing her eyes and resting her forehead in the concave space of his neck. He felt his shirt getting wet by her tears.

She liked being held. Both her parents liked carrying her when she was little. She loved falling asleep in their arms. Being stroked, cherished and soothed. That was why she was so inclined to hug people left and right, but sometimes being held was exactly what she needed. Ron had never really been very affectionate in that way towards her, his hugs felt nervous, stiff, rushed, awkward. Draco felt so different. His embrace felt confident, long and warm; as if he was present with all his senses, sharing, at a deep level, the same space and experience with her.


	17. A New Kind of War

**17\. A new kind of war**

Next morning Draco was ready very early. He really knew how to take care of his appearance. His mother had always been very invested in that. She had always been careful in just buying the kind of things that made her look even prettier. She had taught her son likewise. He got used to it. As it happens with habits, once they are in place, it is difficult to get rid of them. Clean, smelling and looking like an aristocrat he sat on the front step to his room. Last night the thought didn't cross his mind to ask her what time she went to breakfast. So he was going to wait for her right there. There were few possibilities of having missed her because breakfast would start in 15 minutes.

After some 20 minutes of patient waiting he perceived someone coming. Ron was heading this way. A quick action was required; he was not going to let him get to her that easily. He stood up and walked to her door. Of course it was going to be very obvious what he was doing, but he didn't mind what Weasley might think of his move. He was even going to greet him if it was necessary.

When Ron saw him walking to Hermione's room he stopped in his tracks. The bloody Slytherin obviously wanted something with Hermione, his Hermione. How was it possible that she didn't realize it? Anyway, this time he had beat him going to her, but his and her time were more compatible, easier to mix. Malfoy didn't take any classes with them, and couldn't even eat dinner at the same time as them. Luck was on his side. No need to look at his dumb face this time. He turned and headed the other way, to the hall.

Draco was knocking at her door. Unafraid, he turned to look at his opponent. With satisfaction he saw Ron walking away. That had been easy. This was war again, and this war was going to prove who loved and needed her the most.

Hermione opened her door to find her newest friend looking very different from the night before.

"Hey gorgeous," he said observing her with the confident wide smile of a little battle just won and trying to decipher if the timing of the knocking had been appropriate. She already had her uniform on, but her hair was still damp from her shower. He had never seen her like that. Her hair looking less curly made her features seem different, just as beautiful but different, like when furniture in a room is rearranged giving another perspective.

"Hi Draco, it's great to see you in good spirits." Trying to resist she finally accepted she couldn't help it, so she gave herself permission to scan him, he looked so sophisticated. "And, what black tie event are you attending this early?" Gosh they were different in that respect, she thought. He knew how to use clothes in his favor.

"One called breakfast, but only if you let me come with you." He smirked his trademark smile and reached to tug at her shirt collar to put it right, it had looked lopsided.

"I'd love that; let me get my things and we could go"

"Great." He thought for a second and then narrowed his eyes subtly "Do you need time to do your hair?" His mother had never just let her hair dry without doing a million things to it.

"Nope, it just needs to dry on its own."

...

They arrived for breakfast. Ron and everybody else were already there. Draco insisted on carrying her bag. He said it wasn't patronizing, just a caring gesture, plus he wasn't bringing anything with him. Of course, when they were spotted there were cheers from the Slytherin table. They were winning the match.

"Good job, my boy," clamored one of the Slytherin students in a loud voice.

"Make me proud," said another.

"And we keep on scoring," said a third.

Not being around much, having been in jail, being the youngest person with a dark mark on him and still hanging around with the greatest witch of her age, was curiosity inducing to many. The Slytherin table was admonished again for the unruliness.

"This is fun," Draco told her, smiling mischievously. "I feel so important."

Hermione laughed a little and shook her head playfully. They arrived at the Gryffindor table and sat next to Luna, she tended to always have some space around her.

It was clearer for Hermione, now, how different the two personalities of the boys were. Ron tended to retreat under challenging circumstances, while Draco was sort of an in-your-face kind of guy. Ron's strategies were indirect, less efficient, and Draco was rarely afraid to ask for what he wanted. She had to admit it, it felt very nice to be clearly courted, to be around someone so confident of himself that wouldn't be afraid of calling her sweet names just because he wasn't sure his feelings were going to be reciprocated.

On the other hand, she really wished Ron and Draco could get along, but was afraid that the uninhibited drive on Draco's part will make it hard for Ron to relax and give him an opportunity.

They all talked. Draco tried to charm her friends while still acting flirtatious and solicitous with Hermione. Harry noticed it with wonder. He had never thought of his friend as a girl that could attract attention from boys. Clearly, he saw her as his sister. The thought never occurred to him that someone could look at her as an attractive woman, but she certainly should be, in whatever way she was attractive. Or how then to explain Viktor, Cormac, Ron and from all people Draco Malfoy. It was just unbelievable. How had that happened? Malfoy the boy who had taunted her. There was no doubt left on him about the change Hermione had told him about.

It was so clear that Draco felt something for her, even though, it seemed, his feelings apparently were not reciprocated. Hermione looked normal, just friendly.

When it was time to go to class, Draco wanted to know what class was her last before lunch, in case he was in the vicinity, then he could go find her and walk together to lunch. That was what he said but he was actually planning on making it happen.

...

In the middle of her second class that morning, Hermione found a little pouch of chocolate pearls in her bag side pocket with a note that said:

"In case you need to refill your sweetness.

A beneficiary of it."

It made her smile, who could have imagined Draco could be that thoughtful, and everything started happening due to an improbable coincidence.

...

Draco had been thinking, here and there, in between his school work, of the things he enjoyed doing. He thought it would be better if he showed her something she wasn't so good at herself. It was going to be difficult; this girl was amazing. After thinking hard he remembered he had seen her flying a broom and she seemed unskilled and a little afraid while doing it. That was it. He was going to try to help her get better in that area. His glee faded when he remembered her friends Harry, Ginny and the Weasley he disliked, they were all very good at handling a broom; no doubt one or all might have taken the initiative to help her. Oh well, he will have to continue thinking, maybe tomorrow. Today he was already way behind.

He had to go to lunch with Hermione. Because he hadn't bought and sent the book for his mother, he would have to go in the evening and take care of that, then, there would be no possibility of being around her that evening . And he was way behind in his school homework for the first time in this extraordinary period. He had to hurry finishing everything he needed, at least for the day, but still wanted to show her how much he was into her, by sticking as a barnacle. Plus it was a good way to keep the Weasel away from her.

This time, when he went to find her, he wasn't that lucky, Ron beat him to her. No worries, he wasn't afraid of the situation, not now that Weasley couldn't kiss her.

"Hi gorgeous." He said, approaching her with a bright smile and then with a bored expression "Weasley" he greeted them.

Ron wasn't amused, he didn't bother answering, just mumbled with curled lips, "we are busy."

"Ron," Hermione reproached him. "Draco is coming to lunch with us."

"I think we need some privacy Hermione, we were about to talk."

"I had actually agreed to meet Draco before, during breakfast." It wasn't completely a lie or the truth, but something in between. Something to help her avoid the conflict with her ex. "But we can all walk together there, right Draco?"

"Absolutely, beautiful," oh! He was going to go the extra mile to annoy his rival and show her his love.

"Never mind, I can talk to you later," Ron added and immediately walked away. Bloody hell! He had told her, hadn't he? The damned guy wanted something with her, and she had been so dumb. She had either been lying to him or was so thick that she didn't see what was extremely clear.

But he was going to come up with a way to get back at them. Luckily for him he didn't have to think too hard, Lavender could smell the carnage and was ready to take advantage of the opportunity. Lavender was walking with her friend to the hall; when they were almost there they saw him. They had actually been talking about him, his, it seemed, ex-girlfriend and all the drama around them.

"Hi Ron," the best friends approached him. Lavender liked him so much. She admired him. The two times they had actually talked when they were an item, she got the impression that he was very smart, she had gaped at his knowledge of quidditch and other things of less importance. She didn't mind it at all doing all the necessary to have him fall for her again. She had suffered when he left her and then again when she found out he and Hermione were a thing. She was so ready to let him know she was available at the moment and still interested.

Great! Ron thought, those girls were the perfect tool to inflict some damage. He made some conversation and sat with them. It was going to be so pleasurable to hurt Hermione back.

When Hermione and Draco arrived, there was a new arrangement of people in some sitting spots so this time they sat in front of Luna. It was so obvious what Ron was trying to accomplish, but two can play the game, Draco thought, and he started openly showing more affection, touching Hermione's hand, her arm, her back, offering bites of his food with his fork, using terms of endearment, making her laugh, looking at her with longing gazes, playing a very self assured game of seduction. That is indeed an activity that requires a strong nervous system because public rejection is way more painful.

By the end of lunch Ron and Lavender were cozying up, Lavender's hand in his leg, Ron's hand at times around her waist.

Draco tucked some of Hermione's hair behind her ear to clear it, got close to her and whispered: "remember mi plan to make Weasley die of jealousy, do you want to give it a shot?"

They both laughed, but she said, still sounding amused, "not today, Draco, not today."

It was so clear for Luna too that something was going on, so she asked: "are you two finally dating?"

"No Luna." Answer Hermione a little uncomfortable wiggling on the bench.

"Well," Luna added. "Then you should. How many boys in this school have given you flowers as gorgeous as the ones Draco gave you?"

"Auch." Draco mumbled, with a discreet smirk and looked at Ron.

"I also doubt any other girl at Hogwarts has received anything remotely as beautiful." Her very unique friend finished her point stabbing a chunk of parsnip on her plate.

"Thank you Luna! You should be my lawyer." Draco added, very entertained and he offered her a fist bump.

Ginny heard and turned to her friend to ask "Draco gave you flowers?" Everybody was trying to pay attention. In such a short period of time, the Slytherin boy was showing them he was a worthy potential partner for the greatest witch of her age.

"Yes," nodded Hermione.

"And they were the most amazing I've ever seen," added Luna excitedly .

Ginny turned to Harry, "did you hear that?" And she punched him in the arm. "Maybe you should take a page or two from him."

"You know, I think many of us would be happy to know you two were dating," Luna told her friend. She felt her dear friend deserved to be treated as the princess she was. Maybe she wasn't the most beautiful, true, she was cute but she wasn't an exuberant beauty like Lavender, Pansy or Ginny but she had the most important things in the long run, an incredible soul and a heart of gold.

Draco turned to look at Hermione, and she just blushed bright red while avoiding everybody's eyes by looking at her food.

Yes, it was a risk, to court a girl that hasn't sent clear signals she likes you. It's an endeavor that many times generates anxiety, panic, mistakes, misinterpretations. A complicated dance where sometimes half of the possible couple steps painfully on the other's feet. For some, it feels so daunting that they resign not to do anything, to just wait, and hope that the other may do what is needed. Ron had done exactly that. Yet she deserved someone willing to engage in the nerve wracking ritual of falling in love.

…..

Time passed slowly and painfully. A million questions brewing. He, trying to approach Hermione. She, trying to keep him in the friend zone. She had let him hug her many times; always. She enjoyed it as nothing else, but just that. Never letting him advance an inch more.

One day they were sitting under a tree, working on the letter Draco was going to send to his aunt. They modified it here and there. She wrote right there, under the tree, four paragraphs to add as an introduction. He was all the time thinking of things to do with her. Yes, he wanted to reach out to his aunt but that target faded next to his need for Hermione. He had improvised a reason to wrap his arm around her shoulders. His mind had been working hard all this time, always trying to navigate the current of her responses. Tweaking his every move to get her closer. Asking himself what she might want from him to make the time memorable.

The letter was now ready to be sent the next day.

He imagined, after working on the letter for some time, that she might be tired. "Do you mind if I close my eyes for a few minutes? I am tired," he said, as a way to see if she wanted to do exactly that, she did. They closed their eyes. He didn't relax though, it wasn't a moment not to pay attention, it was a moment to feel her. To smell her scent. Her head cradled between his chest and his cheek. Hermione was in paradise too, extremely relaxed. Feeling protected by his strength. Lured by the smell of his fancy cologne. Soothed by the warmth of his body. She identified it, the feeling of completeness, of abandonment, of not wanting to be anywhere else, of wanting to stay like that forever. Unfortunately for Draco, what she would say that she was feeling wasn't love, as in couples love, it was friendship love. He wanted to melt with her. She just wanted to be held like that. How a girl can be satisfied with just that kind of attention and affection it's at times difficult to understand.

Sometimes he felt frustrated. He wished he knew already what was going to happen with them, and he needed to remind himself of Hermione's words: there was a possibility, he needed to try, she had endured pain too.

He had become a fixture in her life. At the beginning of the week, he needed to work hard to keep Weasley away. Little by little, though, it seemed that Ron was feeling more comfortable with Lavender; she was a girl very well informed in the ways of love. She had continued learning after her time with Ron.

That previous Monday, Draco, in the end, hadn't gone to buy a book, Hermione offered to lend him one. She suggested The Little Prince. It was short enough for his mom to finish within the shorter period of time. He had sent a note to his mother Sunday night, apologizing for not having sent the book that day; he had been very busy. He promised the book will arrive Monday night. Now he had to send another note telling her the book might arrive Tuesday morning at the latest. He explained it was a muggle book his dear friend was letting him borrow. She sent a note to hers too, asking to please look for the book and send it with the bird back to school. It had been very easy for her mother to find it. Her bedroom was well organized.

On Tuesday during lunch they all talked about many things and about quidditch. Harry and Ginny love talking about the sport. Then he learned that nobody had bothered trying to help Hermione improve her flying skills. Hermione felt a little ashamed. She was one of the worst in the whole school at handling a broom. Whenever she had played quidditch, just as a favor to complete the teams, she was sure she was a liability for her own team. They teased her about it. They laughed remembering all the funny experiences they had while playing with her.

The time she almost fell and was hanging from the broom midair with hands and legs, her hands gripping the broomstick as tightly as she could, she was screaming at the top of her lungs and her eyes were closed. The other three hurried to help her but she wouldn't let go of the broom, open her eyes or stop screaming, even though she could feel her legs already touching Ginny's broom and Harry and Ron clutching her arms.

"Seriously, Hermione, you wouldn't even open your eyes. Remember mom?" Ginny asked looking at Hermione and then at Harry. "She ran outside, frying pan in one hand and wand in the other ready to hex whomever was hurting you."

"As much as I see you are enjoying reminiscing about my prowess, could you please stop." Said Hermione totally mortified, her elbows on the table and her head cradled on one hand. "You have no idea what vertigo can do to your dignity."

"Sweet Merlin, Hermione! you are adorable and so much fun when you are not in control." laugh Ginny.

"One last thing," pleaded Harry. "Remember when you made it rain puke after Fred spoon you around in the broom and exactly at that moment George was flying right below you." They laugh belly laughs "that was priceless."

"Sod off Harry, do you understand that, before Hogwarts, Hermione probably just used brooms to sweep floors and kill the occasional spider? you two had an advantage, I bet you two did fly when you were children, didn't you?

"Well, yes, but in my case it doesn't even count, or does it? I was one year old, just a pretty baby."

"Of course it does count, something probably stock to those slippery brain cells of yours. But, no worries Hermione , I'll help you learn and we'll kick their butts one day" Draco told with a cheeky grin, a nod towards her friends and full of tenderness towards her. He was excited, so, after all, he was going to be able to use his quidditch skills to this important endeavor.

"You don't know what you are getting yourself into, Draco." Ginny said with a satisfied and very entertained grin on her face.

Harry saw Draco again trying to win Hermione's favor. He felt conflicted. There was only one Hermione. He wasn't sure who he wished she would end up with, probably none of the two. He felt sort of sorry for Draco though, at least Ron had had his chance with her, but in this case, to his point of view, she didn't seem interested in that way for her new suitor.

Starting that same Tuesday he began taking her to the quidditch field everyday in the evenings. He asked here and there for ways to teach somebody that kind of skill, his uncle, his professors, even prof McGonagall. He was in the mind of everybody at school. They could smell his intentions. Everybody had been, at least once in their lifetime, in the same circumstance. Love is universal, a price almost everyone has to pay to be alive. It was very relatable. Secretly every teacher was rooting for him, many students were too. The older folks were proud of him not being ashamed of trying.

They told him it was important that she wanted to learn. It was better if she enjoyed or had fun in the process. It had to be done at her own pace; she was the marker. It was important that she didn't feel ashamed, pressured or ridiculed. And he needed to understand in his own mind how he did it, to be able to explain the details and intricacies to her.

"I am afraid," she told him jokingly the first time, but she actually was. Her hands were moist because of her fear. He told her she needn't worry. They were going to go together in his broom. He was going to go slowly and close to the ground. She will be sitting behind him holding on to him, this way she will get used to the experience. Little by little he started flying higher and less slowly. After she felt comfortable with that, she needed to try on her own broom. They spent many hours in the field during the week. It was challenging for Hermione. For Draco it could have been very boring, if it wasn't for the fact that it had allowed him to enjoy her company. Her hands around or on him. The feeling of doing something for her. The possibility of being together.

As part of his plan to teach her, he was going to take her to a special place. He had to quickly contact some people, a couple of his uncles on his father's side. He wanted to be granted permission to borrow a cabin in the Canary Islands. His parents had owned one, not any more. He knew some of his family members still had them.

It turned out not to be so difficult; one of his uncles quickly agreed. Draco had explained that he only wanted to use the private protected beach, the bathroom and dressing room outside the cabin for a few hours. He didn't mind, they rarely went cabin was just a luxury they could pamper themselves with, in case it was ever needed. Like a fancy necklace that is used only occasionally. Or the grand pianos, the pools or tennis courts in their mansions, rarely used, but still kept because they could.

He also had to make sure Hermione had the correct ID to travel outside the country. She did.

He told her she needed to bring a swimsuit. He wasn't planning on swimming but if she felt like it, they could do it. She should bring a change of clothes, in case her clothes got wet. She should dress light; it was going to be warm, maybe hot. She wanted to know where they were going, but he said it was a surprise. He could give her an envelope with the address of the place they were going, so she could send it to her parents, if she wanted to let them know. She finally agreed. She then sent the note to her parents, letting them know she was going to travel with Draco outside the country on Sunday. She mentioned, it was a surprise but that they wanted them to be able to know where they were going.


	18. Don't Ruin your Friendship

**18\. Don't Ruin Your Friendship**

It was finally Saturday. Draco went to see his house, tried to do some garden work. Then he went to visit his mother.

When his mother was escorted to the visitors hall. She had the book with her. It was a special edition, a hardcover book, with thick, sort of shiny pages. Hermione had bought it when she was an adolescent already. The summer of her second year at Hogwarts. She wanted to have her very own copy; she had already worn out her parents' copy so much. There were drawings she had made in a couple of pages. She had also put her initials in the first page, underneath one of the drawings.

Draco on his part was carrying another book of Hermione's. This time was 'The Madman'.

His mother had liked The Little Prince; it was a very sweet book. She would love her son to read it. It had brilliant ideas, but she had felt a little criticized, at least indirectly. They had been the kind of grown ups the book complained about. Of course, she was careful enough not to mention this last information. They talked about it for a bit and she recommended he read it; it was an easy book to read.

She was curious about this girl, the owner of the book. She had a suspicion of who she might be. Muggle born, wonderful ,according to her son, her initials HG; and... the idea terrified her. The girl she suspected had had such a bad experience around them. She wanted to know more about her, to decide if she had been sending her a message, through the story in the book and if she, herself, needed to somehow help her dear son in these uncanny circumstances.

Draco noticed his mother looked way better. She told him that knowing he was all right helped her feel happy; no matter where she was. If she was happy she was able to eat and sleep better. To this, he immediately felt immensely thankful. Hermione had rescued him once more, and not only him, indirectly, she was saving his parents too.

"Draco dear, do you think I could keep this beautiful book one more week?" It was her initial attempt at finding more about the owner of the book.

"I am sure there won't be any problem with that, my friend is a very sweet girl." He could prevent himself talking about her with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Do you like this young lady? You know... are you in love, sweetie?" She didn't like being nosy around her son's love life, but these were extraordinary circumstances.

He was hit by a wave of heat in his chest. His mother had guessed. She never asked him that kind of question. He had to look away for a moment to regain his equanimity. He returned his gaze to his mother and nodded slowly. After she got the message he was finally able to say, "yes, profoundly."

"And she? Does she feel the same for you?" She started getting a little anxious about her son's emotional integrity. He might be in a very complicated situation, and he was still in the process of recovering from very harsh events.

"I don't think so… or I don't know… I think she really appreciates me. She is always amazing, kind and understanding. She knows I like her, and she lets me be with her all the time." It felt so good to be able to talk to someone about his feelings. It was sad Hermione didn't like him like that yet, maybe never. Suddenly he wanted to ask his mother for advice.

""She is muggle born, right?" His mother asked, and he nodded as a response. Narcissa opened the book at the beginning, on the first blank page, the flyleaf, where Hermione had drawn a beautiful red rose and her initials in a fancy font. She traced Hermione's initials with her thin finger and asked, "do I know her?"

Draco was looking at the rose. He remembered that in the bouquet he had given her, there were different kinds of exotic roses. "Yes," he answered without moving his eyes from the book.

"Hermione Granger," she said slowly, tracing again her initials. "Am I correct?"

Suddenly he felt very vulnerable. Almost unable to maintain eye contact. "Yes," he answered.

This was so appalling, a cruel joke from destiny. If there was anybody she felt she could complain about this, she would. How many girls were there in the world? And he had to fall for the one her family had tortured. "Wasn't she dating Harry Potter?" Was the only thing she could manage to say.

"No, apparently all the time they spent together hiding, was just part of their mission. She was dating the youngest of the male Weasleys, but they recently broke up."

Narcissa remembered that terrible day in their manor drawing room, the Weasley boy truly sounded desperate. That boy added risk to her son's intentions. "And she's been really nice to you, you said?"

His mother emphasizing Hermione's niceness calmed him. "She is just unbelievable; she has been an angel to me." His features looked soft and content.

Narcissa felt a knot in her throat. All the wrongs they had done had affected her beloved son, and could potentially do much more damage. It was as if fate was trying to make them pay through a very ironic set of events. Yet, this was not a moment to worry about her own fears. She had to pay attention. She had to sharpen her mind to help her dear boy. She had also forgotten about her suspicions of a concealed criticism. After listening to her son talk about her, she quickly decided that wasn't the case; and if it was, she didn't care about that anymore. "She truly sounds amazing. And would you like to date her?"

"Yes," he started slowly, reflecting, "but I don't know if that might be possible... maybe she just likes me as a friend."

"Well, she sounds like a wonderful friend. Keep on trying, court her, but please never ruin your friendship with her. That can happen very easily." She told him about her own experiences when she was young. Of course Draco knew his mother had been a gorgeous, beautiful girl. She was still beautiful. She mentioned how, sometimes, she wished she had friends that were boys. How, many of them, after their failed bidding to be her boyfriends, quickly disappear from her life. None of those boys ever wanted to be 'just her friend'. That had made her feel sad, as if she was not worthy to be cherished as a friend, as if, each time, she had to be punished for not loving them.

"I totally understand your failed suitors," Draco mentioned. "I have felt the same about Hermione. Like I am not going to be able to endure being around her, feeling what I am feeling. I know it will be way easier to forget about her, if I don't interact with her or even see her." He had said that, as a way to tell his mother she wasn't unworthy of friendship. The reason, for boys avoiding her in youth, was that it was painful to be just friends, when only one is in love with the other. He was experiencing just that.

"Please don't be that person sweetheart. If either of you gets really tired of things as they are now, you should stop. Then try to find love somewhere else, but try to keep your friendship with her." That's wisdom carried from generation to generation sometimes through motherly advice. A strategy that had been used through the ages. Calming the heart, giving it not exactly what it wants, but a similar experience, through a substitution. Then, she knew, time takes care of the rest.

…...

It was early in the morning. Hermione was excited, and, even though it was still very early, she felt she couldn't continue sleeping. She was going to meet Draco outside the leaky cauldron at seven, as soon as there was sunlight. They didn't want to be traveling while it was still dark. She had asked permission to leave school to go visit her parents; she decided to say that because she didn't like people imagining things that were not happening.

She didn't have the old, beaten up, small, beaded handbag anymore, the one she had used in her exile last year. She had made a new one to carry comfortably everything they might need, including some dittany and some other first aid potions, just in case. Also food, blankets, towels, personal care items, clothes, even a book; everything was there. She had done it the day before.

She wanted to look cute too. She told herself it wasn't because of Draco. Well it was. But not for any flirty reason, but because she felt awkward, looking shabby, next to a fancy looking boy. As with Weasley and humor, she was learning that making an effort in her appearance wasn't bad; she really liked how her new friend took care of his looks.

Since she couldn't sleep any longer, at 5 am she started getting ready. The only thing she had left to do was making herself look pretty. No, not pretty, she corrected herself, just presentable. She seemed still angry at the idea of making herself look good, she told herself she didn't have any secret motive, but maybe, just maybe, she did.

After trying almost half of her clothes more than twice each, she had been able to choose some of them the day before. Making sure they wrinkle resistant and appropriate for the weather, this time she also made sure they looked good together andon her. She still had so much time, so she applied some products to her hair. After that it looked shiny with well defined curls. She fixed it on a ponytail and left some strands hanging free, to emphasize her features. When she was done with her hair she still had time to apply a little bit of makeup.

When they met, Draco felt his stomach flipped, she looked beautiful. They hugged and he kissed her cheek. It was good he had learned to take care of himself before meeting her; poor, poor boys, so quick to react.

"You didn't bring anything!" He exclaimed while carrying his own heavy duffel bag. "it's okay, you can borrow my towel, but you at least have your travel papers, right?"

She explained she had everything they might need in her little handbag and how she had done it. She was amazing, he thought again.

They held hands. He was going to take her somewhere as part of his plan.

They arrived at a governmental looking office. Hermione quickly noticed it was the Spanish immigration office. The place you needed to go when traveling to Spain, so that was the county they were going to. They checked their papers and luggage and approved their trip. From their facilities they would portkey to the equivalent office in Spain and from there they could travel to wherever they were going in the Country. The middle aged woman, who gave them instructions to use the facilities portkey, said, "oh! you are such a lovely young couple." Hermione got scarlet on the face. Draco smiled at the lady while pulling Hermione closer with his right arm around her shoulders and said "well, thank you! I bet your country will do wonders for our young love."

Once they were out of her range of vision Hermione hit him playfully in the arm, "young love!?"

He smiled "what? It's true, yours is so young, it hasn't been born yet."

….

They arrived at the beach cabin. They had walked the last stretch of the trip, from the ice cream parlor they traveled to, after the immigration office in Spain. He had to take them there; it was one of the few clear memories he had of a place they could actually arrive at.

It was a lovely place, with its Mediterranean architecture. He had been right; she needed to bring light clothes. After their walk they were already sweating. They had shed their jackets, but it wasn't enough.

"So, where exactly are we? And why?" She finally asked.

He explained where they were. That they needed the water. Not cold water like in the lake or anywhere near. The warm weather could help too because they were bound to fall into the water. He wanted to teach her some games he played when he was younger. They could help her with her flying skills.

When they were walking there, he had shown her the outside of their previously owned beach cabin, and the ones of some other family members. They were all clumped together. People came here only every once in a while, so, that day, it was pretty deserted.

As soon as they had access to the bathroom they changed into shorts and t-shirts, his had long sleeves. There was a sharp pain in her heart when she imagined the reason for his choice of clothes. "Aren't you hot In that T-shirt?"

"I am, but I think I would be even more without it." Sometimes it is easier to avoid reality through humor.

"You know you don't have to hide anything like that with me, right?" She was trying to be clear with her message.

"I know, thank you," he responded seriously, and then, "but if you really want me to take it off for your delight, you can just say so."

They eat breakfast, he had asked his elf to prepare something for them and bring it. Good thing the wonderful creatures could come and go as they wish, no customs enforcement for them. After that they went for a brief walk. Very brief indeed, because very quickly he got really uncomfortable in the long sleeve T.

Of course he had to get in the water before anything, to cool down a bit. So before the first game, he was going to show her that falling down into the water was nothing to be afraid of. The brooms sticks were thick and cushiony. He showed her. "Now is your turn, try falling down but don't let go with your hands and legs until you are almost upside down."

She wanted to skip that suggestion, even though, he explained, she needed to get comfortable with falling down, for the game. There was a short chase. "Come on Granger or I am going to have to push you down," he told her, once he had caught her and had her firmly held by her hand.

"You didn't tell me I definitely had to get in the water, let me put on my swimsuit." Then she stalled, but he noticed, nagged her, chased her again and finally she had to do it. On top of the swimsuit she had her short and T-shirt. It wasn't as bad as she feared, the difficult part was to get on the broom while in the water. The game was exactly that, trying to push the other down. The broom of the fallen player could be caught by the winner of the round. The purpose of this game was to help her control the broom and balance herself on it with one or no hands on it. To make it fair he was going to just use one hand. First it was the right hand, but she wasn't a match, so he started using only the left keeping his right behind his back. After much joking and teasing in every round, she was the one that ended up in the water most of the time. It wasn't possible to make it more even. So they stop sooner than he had planned.

He explained that in the next game they were going to race for the snitch. There was no risk there. If any of them fell, there was water underneath. It was going to be fun, plus he had this special snitch for kids, it moved but not very fast . From the 2 brooms he had brought, she was using his newest, in good condition, even though no longer the latest model. That was one advantage, the other was, she would be starting right there where the water began and he was starting some distance behind. They had to try several times until they had the correct distance between them, to make it more or less even.

Little by little she started moving faster. It was to be expected, they had been practicing for a week. So every time she had beat him five times in a row, they had to adjust the advantage she was given. After a while she looked way more comfortable. Then he started playing tricks on her. Holding the broom or her ankle to stop her from moving. They joked and laughed like kindergarteners, with no malice and a lot of deep enjoyment.

For lunch they ate some sandwiches Hermione had prepared. Before that, they had taken off the wet T-shirts and taken turns to go remove the salty water on the shower. They stayed on their swimsuits After lunch they rested a bit on the sand. Hermione offered to help him put the sunblock he was applying on his back. She did, and couldn't avoid feeling moved by the sensation of his skin in her hands, the sight of his masculine body, the muscles on his torso, shoulders and arms, the idea that he liked her, but she was to brainy to let herself follow her instincts. Her brain was telling her he was too complex, too complicated to be a good partner… it was too risky.

The day was passing by quickly. They had to do the next thing soon, it was going to be a throw and catch sort of game, they used a small ball. The idea was to throw it high, so that the other had to move quickly vertically, to catch it before it crossed the lines put, a little behind each one of them, by magic. After that they swam, showered and went to eat in the muggle part of town. Hermione then became the guide to that part of the experience. He had even taken the trouble of getting the kind of muggle money used in Spain. They talked about many things and shared bites of their food.

They returned to put everything back as they had found it and to pick up their things. They needed to go but the sunset was starting. "Can we stay to watch the colors in the sky? It looks wonderful," Asked Hermione. She had already given her little bag to Draco, they had managed to fit his duffel bag inside the little one.

"Of course beautiful."

They sat. Hermione liked it so much when he used endearment words to talk to her or about her. She pulled a blanket out of her bag, and they both sat on it. They watch the sky slowly change its colors. He took advantage of the mood by hugging her without asking and with a satisfied smile on his lips. She corresponded by wrapping her arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that watching.

It was almost going to be over, and it had been wonderful, perfect. He turned his face to look at her; she looked at him too, and he moved to try to kiss her. She refused by hiding her mouth from his; she pressed her face against his chest. He only moved his head back and then again to crack his neck. Another chunk of hope had died in his heart, the last one, so he released her and said, "I think it is time to go back." He couldn't help it but be somber for the rest of their trip. "I am just tired," he answered when Hermione asked him if there was something wrong.

It was time to stop. He was madly in love, but it was not working. He didn't know what else to do, He had never worked so hard to court anybody and she still didn't care about him in that way. He had no hope left, and it was painful. Maybe someone in the Slytherin house could be interested.


	19. Not Going to Beat Around the Bush

**19\. They Are Not Going to Beat Around the Bush**

Next morning Draco decided he wasn't going to go with her to eat breakfast. But when he didn't arrive at her door Hermione decided to go look for him.

"Are you ready? Let's go, it's time for breakfast," she told him scrutinizing him.

"I wasn't planning on going with you today. Maybe I should start venturing into making new friends in my own house."

"Sounds good, but you are ready, so why don't we walk there together?" She still wanted to be with him. She finally recognized it to herself, she enjoyed it a lot.

He agreed, and they went to the hall together, when they arrived he accompanied her to her table.

"Wow!" started Ginny. "Nobody is going to believe you two were not together yesterday; you have the same tan."

"Ginny! Hermione went to visit her parents... but apparently now they are neighbors with Draco in the Caribbean," laughed Harry.

Their good mood was contagious, so Draco decided to sit down with the Gryffindors again.

"Where did you go?" Asked Luna looking at them and then looking back at her breakfast of veggies.

Hermione told them how they went to Spain to play and practice her skills. She mentioned all the things they did.

"Is she getting any better Draco?" Ask Ginny.

"She is, actually," He answered while he finished putting some food on his plate.

"I'll have to see that," said Ron, it seemed that he was also paying attention to them, not only to Lavender and her friends.

"I think you may soon have more students, Draco. Some girls have been asking if you're giving private lessons," said Luna.

"Pff" laughed Harry. "They also casually asked if you two are together."

"Private lessons my arse… excuse my french, that Longvalley girl was going to substitute one of the Slytherin chasers last year, when he was sick. And she wants to learn!?" Ginny said, very amused.

"Maybe some other kind of lessons, right Draco?" Continued Harry laughingly.

"Maybe," laughed Draco. "I definitely would be willing to help them with that too. Hey maybe I should go check that out." He pushed away his untouched breakfast and stood up ready for some fun. "See you later okay." This time he didn't put any special attention in addressing Hermione.

"I think he finally realized you don't like him Hermione," Ginny told her friend. Hermione looked back at her with a blank expression.

"He could have known all along, he knows occlumency and probably legilimency, his aunt taught him," said Harry, remembering the time he had spied on him and Professor Snape talking.

They continued as normal. Apparently Luna was the only one that noticed Hermione looking down. She also, after a while, had turned to look, not inconspicuously at all, at her friend's newest bff. He seemed like he was having fun somewhere else already. Hermione's friendship had definitely helped him clear his name and reputation. She had put him on the map again. Yes, the other girls had been warned by their parents to steer clear of him; he was a criminal, but they decided that if that handsome criminal was good enough for Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, then, he sure as hell was good for them too. Their parents could keep their opinions.

Everybody started leaving until it was only Luna and Hermione left at their table. "Is everything alright Hermione?" Luna asked. She had finished her breakfast long ago. She only wanted to tell her friend privately that she had noticed, and she was there for her.

"Oh Luna! you are such a wonderful friend." They walked to their class together. Luna asked her what had happened while they were walking out the door, they looked distant. "I don't know," answered Hermione, she seemed confused, "I have grown really fond of him. It is really nice to spend time together, but I think he might want us to date, and I don't know; he is maybe upset about it."

"You don't like him?" Asked Luna. She was trying to find out what her friend was feeling, to know what was the best way to help her.

"Oh Luna! I think I do… a lot, in many ways." She was reflecting. She had dreamt of him last night. The most wonderful dream ever; about his beautiful strong arms wrapping her, his eyes, his lips, his gorgeous body. "But that is not the only important part in a relationship, Luna, the fact is that he still seems very troubled. I might be a little scared."

"Hermione, you don't sound quite like yourself. Like the Gryffindor you are. You have been telling everybody about how much he has changed. How you think he deserves a second chance. Were you lying?" She knew her friend wasn't, but she wanted to help her see things more clearly.

"No, I wasn't. He has changed a lot, but he is still...how to say it ...he is very scarred by the past."

"I can imagine. But who isn't damaged or has shortcomings in one way or another?"

"I know... but his scars go really deep."

"Well, then maybe that means he has hit rock bottom. He might be rising from there. Isn't that wonderful? Terrible circumstances can motivate like nothing else. He is young, he can continue changing more easily. And it's not like you have to marry him if you just try. And even if you married him, if things are going really bad one can get out of a relationship. And if you feel something for him, why don't you try? Give what you're feeling an opportunity" Luna loved to see how sweet and thoughtful Draco had become after their friendship, not only to Hermione but to everyone. How couldn't she wish they continued together?

"You are right Luna." It was her turn to be afraid to lose him. "I am going to think about it." They had arrived at their classroom.

…

It was difficult for Hermione to concentrate on her classes. She found her mind drifting in and out of what was going on in the present. Incredibly, she had left all of her teachers' questions pass without raising her hand. Everybody was shocked, what was wrong with the know-it-all Hermione Granger? Many gazes scrutinize her. Others exchanged confused reactions; was Armageddon coming? Why didn't she care anymore? She didn't even notice them. At times she just found herself doodling shapes on her notebook, thinking.

Yes, he had really changed some toxic options, she was thinking . Lately, he cared about her like nobody had before, except her parents. She enjoyed his company, talking to him, they could talk for ages. He made her laugh without being mean. Being inside his arms... that was... pure heaven. But it seemed, now, that he was angry at her. Maybe he was okay forgetting quickly about her... was he even ready to give real love? Perhaps he just needed her support to come out of the trouble after the war. And after he felt better he was going to realize how she didn't belong in his inner circle of friends, how she wasn't a rich, sophisticated pure blood.

At lunch she again was lost. She sat next to Ginny. Ginny kicked Harry to the bench in front of them so that Luna could sit next to Hermione too. Ginny had also noticed; her friend was acting strange and her friend's latest admirer was too.

Draco arrived and he addressed them all, "Hey Gryffindors, Ginny are you ready to lose this Friday?" Ginny was the only one of them still allowed by age to play with their quidditch team.

"Oh! You don't have a chance slytherin-babies," boasted Ginny.

"Are your pupils any good?" Harry jokingly asked Draco, turning to see him.

"They are good, in many ways!" He said with a smirk and trying to be funny added, "I don't know about their quidditch skills though."

At that Luna, with worry, quickly wrapped her arm around Hermione's back. With that gesture Hermione felt strong enough to lift her gaze from her plate and look at the friend she felt she was losing.

Their eyes met and for a moment there was electricity in the air. Draco smiled very briefly at her and immediately moved his eyes away and knew he needed to do what was necessary. "Okay, enjoy your lunch." And left.

"Somebody is certainly moving on," said Harry, and everyone exchanged uncomfortable looks.

Yet Ron said laughing "You are right Harry. Somebody just got dumped by her bff." After his comment his sister looked at him harshly, so he added, "what? Somebody should have chosen better." He was so pleased, this pain ought to teach her a lesson. He was going to take his sweet time to go back to her. She should suffer long enough so she wouldn't try that sort of stupidity ever again.

They continued eating but Hermione was just playing with the food, taking small uninterested bites every now and then; not even paying attention again. There was laughter and banter but she couldn't understand anything. She looked at Draco; he seemed happy; he was talking with a couple of girls. They looked really excited to be with him. He was handsome, and he always looked impeccably groomed, but the most important part was that he made her happy. She was immensely satisfied inside his arms, laughing with him, sharing their time. He caught her gaze and she immediately looked away. She imagined him embracing a girl that was not her and there was pain of jealousy in her heart. His arms were HER paradise. But, she had just ended a bad relationship, she was afraid and had also rejected him. Was he really angry at her? Was he really moving on? Then he was not going to be willing to embrace her again the way he had been doing it.

It was almost time to go to class. Some people had left already, but her friend Luna was still right there with her. Hermione ventured another gaze in his direction. Just yesterday they had been laughing and playing. They had looked at the sunset sky embracing each other, tired but totally satisfied. He could feel her staring at him; he turned to look at her too. Their eyes locked for a second, again Hermione looked away. After a few seconds Luna told Hermione, "somebody is coming." Hermione's heart began to pound wildly in her chest. She was nervous. Why? They had spent all Sunday together. True, on the way back he didn't even try to hold her hand, look at her, or engage in conversation.

"Hi," Draco had arrived. "Are you girls going to class soon?" He asked, not taking his eyes off Hermione.

"Yes," said Luna. "I actually have to run now; I forgot something in my room." Luna was way smarter than what many supposed. She stood up and left them alone.

Draco then sat next to Hermione and asked her, "do you want to come with me to meet my friends? They all want to meet you."

They went; Draco introduced her. They, of course, were not in the least interested in meeting her. They actually loathe her, but they were not going to show it if they saw Draco cared about her. When she said she had to go, she also wildly invented "Draco, I know you said you would walk me there, but if you are busy it's okay." He got the message.

On the way to her class she asked him, "is it true you know Occlumency and Legilimency?" She also needed to know if he had used it on her.

"I did, a little, mainly blocking someone trying to read my mind, I don't know if I would still be able to remember how to do it though; it's been a while. Let me help you with your bag." He reached for it, it was heavy. "How do you know?"

"Harry told me, you know, he talked with professor Dumbledore a thousand times, maybe he told him." They were walking up the stairs to her class. She was sliding her hand along the handrail, unable to peel her eyes away from him. "Would you teach me Draco?" She still wanted to do things with him.

"I don't know Hermione. You are not supposed to learn it until the ministry authorizes it, besides I don't know if I remember how to do it ." He was avoiding looking directly at her.

"Mmh...then you haven't used it on me, right?"

"No! It's like spying" his expression was one of shock. She should be doubting he could do something as low as spying on her thoughts.

"Are you busy tonight Draco?" She was making up her mind. Those girls didn't seem to be the kind to beat around the bush. And once he was with one of them, it was going to be way more complicated, maybe impossible, to be with him alone.

"I was planning on going to the Slytherin common room to hang around, talk to people and continue making new friends."

"Could you hang out with me instead? I can go to your room so you can show me how to close my mind to Legilimency" They arrived at her classroom, so she reached to take her bag from his shoulder. "Please."

"Yes, that's fine; I can try." It was going to be torture again, but she had agreed to be with him when he had insisted; it was just fair.

"6:30, your room." Hermione told him before entering the classroom, there it was again that beautiful smile and the twinkle in her eyes.

….

Hermione had been able, once again, to pay attention in class. Hermione, Ginny and Luna had eaten dinner very early and very quickly, then left to go to the Gryffindors room. They talked and helped Hermione. Ginny said, she didn't mind her dumping her brother forever, he could be so tactless sometimes. Luna said she loved the idea of the two of them falling in love, if not only forgiveness but also love was possible between them, after every mistake of the past, then it seemed there were no barriers for love, any love could flourish. That made her feel so hopeful, fluffy inside, and extremely happy, like if a thousand gnomes were partying inside her heart. They chatted and agreed it was a good idea to have Draco look at all her best memories of the two together. He will be able to guess what she was trying to tell him; they were sure.

…..

When Draco was walking to his room, he was trying to make sense of this strange unknown territory. Where he was supposed to remain Hermione's friend and fall in love with someone else. He still didn't feel that way for anybody but Hermione. Yes, he was sort of having fun laughing with other girls, but he still wanted what, so far, only Hermione had offered him, the acceptance, peace, warmth and beauty of her heart. Yet he had to be strong and deal with the rejection to his love intentions. He knew he had to avoid putting himself in situations that could continue fostering feelings for her. It was necessary to look somewhere else, to distract himself, nevertheless he still needed to say yes to her request. He needed to show her he cared too, just like she had. He wasn't just going to dump her, like his mother had warned him.

When he was passing in front of her door, he thought to let her know they could meet now. Nobody answered. She had said 6:30; okay, perhaps she was busy doing something somewhere else. Once in his room, he sat at his desk and tried to remember what he had learned about Occlumency and Legilimency, without remembering who had taught him. He had to use some silent spells, but the most difficult part was to concentrate solely on the person he needed to read, ignoring everything else, everything. Damn it, that was going to be painful, looking at her beautiful eyes, and just concentrating on her. There was a knock on the door and he knew immediately who it was.

When he opened the door, he saw Hermione; she looked stunningly beautiful, like an image from heaven. Her hair was gorgeously done, part of her hair held high but loosely by a sparkling hair clip, part hanging loose in well defined curls and she even had light makeup on. "Where are you going Hermione?" He managed to ask her after a few speechless seconds.

"Here, with you," she answered with a mischievous smile. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Oh!... Yes, come in," he moved to the side. Why was she doing that? He closed the door a little conflicted. "Why are you all dressed up?" She also had some very alluring clothes on, a nice pair of black leggings and a pearly white silk, hip length, sleeveless blouse under a fitted scarlet wool jacket and a pair of low heel sandals. Boy! She even had beautiful earrings and a delicate pendant necklace.

"This," She said dismissively pointing down at her clothes, "Ginny has been bugging me to let her try something with my hair and clothes, so I finally let her" she started removing her jacket. He swallowed, he knew how her torso felt under his hands. He had to look away. "You look amazing, like in the Yule ball."

"Don't tell me you noticed me that day?" she said with narrow and amused eyes. She pushed herself up, to sit on his desk; she seemed so self assured, as whenever she had a personal mission.

"Of course, I am sure everyone did. You were the biggest star that night. I don't remember how anybody else looked, but I remember you." He could even see her in his mind. He was completely sure everybody present that night could remember her. She had just transformed into the most gorgeous vision. Not only that, she also was with Viktor Krum, goodness, with Viktor Krum. Many students had been his fans. "Lucky guy, that Viktor."

"Hey! I have an idea," she said, with big bright eyes. Again she had some happy energy, jumped off his desk and hurried to the door. "I'll be back." She left closing the door behind her.

He noticed she didn't even grab her jacket. Was she teasing him? No, she was not like that. Maybe it had been her friends' idea, so they could laugh at him. Were they all having fun at his expense? Trying to make him suffer. They surely knew he liked her and she didn't like him. He hadn't hid it. Everybody had seen him do backflips for her. She wouldn't have agreed to that though. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just what she had said, they were just experimenting. Heck, even he had experimented with his clothes. He should stop being paranoid and just relax.

Hermione was back. She had a strange looking black contraption. She closed the door, went directly to his desk and put the device on top. "This Draco, is a boombox, I don't know much about the type of music wizards listen to, but with this you can play muggle music," she said crouching down with daintiness, one knee on the floor, alternatively looking at her friend and opening the thing to check the cd was in place. Then she closed the device, turned it on and selected the song she wanted. She then stood up, turned to look at her friend, who was perplexed. "Would you dance a piece of music with me, Draco?"

Now she was talking crazy, he thought, frowning his eyebrows. "No way! If you know little about wizards music, I know absolutely nothing about muggle music."

She smiled and added, "well, this is the easiest dance you could ever imagine, can I show you?" And she extended her left hand inviting him to come closer.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," he said, yet complied and walked closer, then lifted his hand to grab the hand she was offering.

"Don't worry, this is really the easiest thing. You can just hold the lady like in any waltz, remember?" She stepped closer, to be able to put his hand in the small of her back. She slid hers up, along his arm, all the way past his shoulder. The sensation of her hand traveling softly up his arm sent shivers down his spine. I got this, he thought, he reached for her right hand with his left. She added, "good, so the only thing this song will require from us, is to move our weight from one leg to the other, you could lift each foot slightly each time, and we swing our bodies together to the sound of the music. More or less like this. She showed him and he promptly followed her. We can travel a little around the dance floor, if you feel like it, I'll just follow you."

"Oh, muggle music is dumb, your parties must be boring,"

She smiled at him and said, "There are many different types of music and dancing. But I like the idea that you and I could have danced together that day, so this is the song for our own Yule ball." She moved away, pulled her wand from her back pocket, said lumos. Went to turn off the other light in the room, then to the desk and put the wand in a pencil holder on his desk. The dimmed light was very appropriate. She pressed play to the song she had already selected, and returned to her place in his arms just when 'against all odds' started playing.

They dance like that for less than a minute. That song was making him fly. The music, its cadence, its soft rhythm, all of that expressed the emotions he was feeling. He noticed -how can I just let you walk away-; he hoped again. And there he was, tortured.

Hermione then directed his left hand to her back too, got closer and slid both hands on his chest to put them near his neck.

Both hearts were beating hard, each one of them just aware of their own. That song was sort of speaking about them, he thought. The sensation of her fingertips touching his neck. His hands on her back feeling her feminine body through the thin, soft blouse. He needed to stop, but this was just sublime. He couldn't, he didn't want to, he wanted to hope -against all odds- too. Hermione was in heaven inside his arms. This was the man she loved. She had just accepted it that day. She moved closer, to rest her face on his, now the skin on their faces touching, the side of her forehead in his cheek, near his mouth. She could feel the heat of his breath in her ear, he could feel hers in his neck.

Her body was screaming for the kiss she had denied him, but she wasn't going to be the one to initiate the next kiss. She knew he had what it takes to be the one making the move. Nothing wrong with her taking the initiative, but he had been trying: he deserved the honor. Yet she was desperate to feel him again. And It was so comforting knowing she wouldn't have to wait forever for him to muster the courage, as it had been with some other people; he could be trusted to initiate things too, she wouldn't have to do it all.

He didn't know it though. She had rejected him just yesterday. He had promised himself he was going to be careful around her. And yet here he was, the sensation of her skin against his was driving him mad with yearning. Maybe he needed to stop this but he really didn't want to. This was...amazing… and… she was trying to tell him something, wasn't she? Perhaps he needed to investigate. He finally moved his head sliding his cheek along the skin on her face. Like in his dream; she sort of responded. He slowed down the dancing, she followed. He continued moving his head by instinct, his eyes now closed, like in his dream. He stopped dancing, she did too. He tried slithering his lips on her cheek, she didn't protest or move away, much to the contrary, her fingers started slowly caressing his neck, his ears, his hair. Their lips were so close now, almost touching. And he knew, this time, when he kissed her, she would kiss him back. He wasn't mistaken.

...

Hermione was deeply asleep but his kisses were quickly waking her up.

"Mmm... What time is it Draco?" She slowly mumbled her question, still half asleep.

"1:30 beautiful," he answered, stopping his kisses just enough to respond.

"Is everything okay love?" Said Hermione caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers and planting a loving kiss on his lips when they were the closest, as they were traveling all over her face.

"Well, I just had the most horrible nightmare in my entire life," he told her, now looking at her through the thick curtains of night.

Hermione quickly propped herself on her elbow and with worry in her voice asked him, "tell me all about it."

"I was dreaming that Rose and Hugo were the children you had in a marriage with Ron."

Hermione laughed with relief. "No need to worry sweetheart, he's been so happy married to Lavender"

"Oh! It's so kind for you to say; it was definitely Wesley's happiness what had me worried," teased Draco.

They had been married for 30 years already, their children Narcissa Rose and Hugo had already left the nest.

They were both very successful Hermione in her research practice and Draco running his family business, but they had decided eccentric luxuries were not for them. So, most of the money they made went to charity. A few years ago, when his mother passed away, they had completely transformed Malfoy manor in headquarters for their nonprofit organization, through which they tried to leave a better world.

They had discovered long ago that fancy manors and decorations of gold and precious metals and gems didn't make them happier. On the other hand helping a little child recover his or her health, a little child who couldn't even understand about their prestige and fame, but could understand their real capacity for love, that made them so happy.

Ron indeed was terribly happy, married to a woman that adored him and considered him the most brilliant and brave creature on the face of the earth. She was in the same plane of intellectual and day to day interests as him.

Hermione and Draco's time together hadn't been a happily ever after, no couple has ever known that, but they had felt as close to it as anyone could.

Draco, of course, had to go to therapy during different periods in their life. There are hurts that need ample work to be managed successfully, but he was willing to do it for their happiness. They just loved each other with all their hearts. They both had the conviction to make it work, no matter what.

And they could still make sparks fly when together. That's what happens when you are with a good match.

"But the stupid dream left me ravenous for you," said Draco starting to kiss her again...wanting to travel to paradise, with the only woman that had also deliver his soul to the realm of rapture.

That bottle of Felix-felicis, so many years ago, had been of extreme quality, he thought; Its effects were still being felt.

**THE END**


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